Let The Games Begin
by SparkleKit
Summary: The Chiva, the sacred hunt of a budding Yautja warrior. The Yautja. Feared. Hunters. The Crew of the Betty. Mercenaries. Outlaws intent on wiping the universe of the bugs that have each left their mark. Rated M for a reason..
1. And Caesar Said Let The Games Begin

Deadly jaws opened slightly as the drone hissed in boredom. A shining trail of drool trailed from its inner maw as its deadly second set of teeth extended, a spasm occurring every so often in a parody of muscular stretching. It was young; a couple of days old and it wanted to go forth and forage with its elders. Its midnight hide did not yet possess any scaring or anything else that indicated it had contributed to the survival of its hive. It was completely smooth and symmetrical in its perfection. The drone arched its tail over its shoulder and extended its dorsal tubes. Yes, boredom was not a foreign concept to the drones, the soldiers of the hive but they all hailed their queen and when the food sources had been exhausted and nothing left was suitable for harvesting they would sleep; lying in wait for those that will always come.

As the drone twitched, seeming to alleviating its own boredom it was unaware that it was in the process of being stalked. Stalked and watched. There was barely a sound, maybe just a soft thump as the figure landed in a crouch. The drone even through it was young turned, somehow knowing that it was now no longer alone. Another of its kind perhaps? It issued a low hiss.. It was not answered. Perplexed, intrigued the young drone bounded forward with a soft snarl. It did not feel… as if it should be on the offensive, there was a familiar scent on the air and the comforting hum of the hive mind did not give it cause to become aggressive and of course, it could not see anything. Not a muscle moved as the nightmare with chrome teeth and a good four-foot of height swung round obviously on the hunt. The nightmare started forward; caution was an alien concept to it. Here it and its brothers were on top of the food chain, supreme in the fact that their hive survived and reproduced.

The figure did not move..

It did not possess the basic fight or flight instinct that it's followers possessed, in fact it was incredibly similar to the nightmare that was attempting to stalk it. Young and aggressively instinctive to the point where some of its unit believed it barely possessed humanity when it came into contact with the breed. It felt the eyes of those behind it sniffing slightly when it began to catch a faint scent on the air; a rabid and feral combination of fear, anger and anticipation and despite the fact that the drone before her had not yet seen its adversaries it knew that it would of smelled them soon, if it hadn't already. The stalker felt a brief moment of annoyance, and started to slide against the resin like wall it had slithered against earlier. Retreat and protect serve or pounce now.

The instinct to protect what it saw as hive mates and the instinct to obey orders from its queen had it for a millisecond a flutter with indecision. But it had been too long since it had felt free and travelling in confines through space did nothing to alleviate its instincts. The figure was torn for a millionth of a second – kill this one now or wait for it to move away from what looked like a hole leading deeper into it's backyard. Fixing its eyes on the hole it chose to wait. No telling how many were 'sleeping' nearby and were very much ready to kick off down there.

The figure eased itself back, deep into an overhang and rested in the shadows. It was not alien in appearance; it was humanoid - but it had been made, fundamental DNA warped by the USM - united systems military. The new age assholes of the universe. Twisted in a bizarre sense within the human genes it possessed and experienced feelings hunting the drones gave it, liked to sometimes bask by a still living hive and hearing the soft voices within. One similar to it, Two words came to its consciousness then, the word '_Mother_' and also '_Queen_', also gave into to the need to allow the alien part of it an appearance but that one had an advantage of once being completely human and not from first breath being under the constant strain of being of both worlds. A soft hiss alerted the would be stalker that the drone had come closer and the figure looked out of the corner of its eyes and saw the oblong head snake from behind the chitinous fibre that made up the basic structure of the hive. This one would have to be disposed of quietly before they could progress but one wrong move, one slight slip would bring at least a small contingent of the rest of its family, each rigged for the disposal and harvesting of that which threatened their existence.

Flicking its eyes to right it made out a flash of color that made up the bandana that always adorned the small female known as Vasquez's head. Another moment passed and it knew that the drone saw it also. Being blessed with 360-degree vision had its advantages after all but this was one drone that would be meeting its maker before it could give an alarm. The figure moved quickly, seeming to suddenly leap from the black it had been hiding in, its passage only marred by the soft click as its clawed nails skittered briefly over the outer layer of the hive. Landing squarely to the side of the drone and before it could swing round had embedded a sliver of metal through its neck, barley a second passed as the front part of the drones head along with murderous and drooling jaws separated with a sickening squelch, arching in a spiral before hitting the floor with a further wet thump.

The aliens' murderer did not give it the chance to challenge or issue a warning instead all it gave it was a most disorganised death, its body having landed in a haphazard heap at a pair of small booted feet. A second swing arched to the left a moment later, a soft 'schling' as the metal seemed to bend the air before finding its target in a wandering face hugger that had attempted to pounce. Like the former; it landed with a moist sound, spider-like legs twitching until they fell silent. As the shadowy slayer surveyed its prize the rest of the eclectic crew moved forward, flanking and checking, always checking for further movement. It did not matter to the one that they now surrounded that there was nothing else alien in the vicinity and nor did it take offence when an old style marine with boyish charm swung an aged motion detector from left to right and breathed a slight of relief when the unit did not start to vibrate in his hands.

The figure stayed silent as unit that named themselves 'The Bug Busters' un-slung enough guns and ammo to take apart a small country. It was interested in one thing and that thing was probably surrounded by at least a couple of hundred drones and probably nested within an egg chamber with enough face huggers to infect a couple of hundred of their number. It found the cloak and dagger game of slipping in to the outer hive, dispatching the odd drone or five and then leaving a couple of mega tonnes of liquidising explosive boring – it was no sport. Effective, yes and affirmative it was a priority, disposing of the alien threat but it was bored of guns, grenades and then slinking off like a thief in the proverbial night. It wanted to test itself against the legacy that was its mother; Ellen Ripley, clone eight of the Auriga Project. Ripley had killed the first of her '_children_', well that was not strictly true the child had been the Alien Queens and from it's rather strange birth had attached itself to Ripley. Did the stalker feel a human emotion when it remembered the hybrid newborn? Its eyes narrowed slowly in thought. It was a constant battle sometimes for the mothers company, humans, machines always called for her attention, diverting it from itself, leaving it in a fashion, lonely.

"..What the fuck is the kid doing now? Hey, Vazzie? You speak bug brat. What the fuck..?"

The speaker was given a look from the small but stout female that was standing guard. Within seconds of issuing a flourishing hand movement the speaker was silenced. The one known as 'The Kid' was amused… what was 'it' doing, indeed? Only watching for a stray face monster so it doesn't creep up and use you as a battery operated incubator. _Idiot_. Oh, it knew that many amongst the humans viewed her with something akin to a fearful awe. No one and nothing could do what it could. Nothing could go against a drone or three and survive unarmed. Hmph, none of them would even try it. Rolling its shoulders almost invisibly it pursed and pinched its lips. Yes, it finally admitted. It was experiencing the very normal and human emotion that was boredom. It mattered not that it was helping destroy something that it was kin with; having watched hundreds of data streams each noting the aliens capacity for destruction, going through every single living thing for either food or harvesting them it knew that they were a danger and that it was the correct thing to do – wiping them out but it was bored or going through what Vasquez called 'Having an itch and needin' to scratch it, 'kay..'. It was doing what the Mother… The Ripley wanted.

The lone figure turned and watched the last of the special 'package' being set into place. In exactly five minutes this place would be an ode to Hiroshima. Intelligence gathered from the Androids surveillance devices had thoroughly checked the rest of the terrain and had concluded that this was a fairly new colony and the operation would be a simple in and out job. The figure narrowed its eyes at a louder than normal 'click' broke the silence. It did not turn but simply raised a clenched fist to alert that the noise level was above what it should be.

"Psst.. Time to book, Kid."

The voice was barely above a whisper and for a second Hudson thought that the kid had not heard him and started forward to nudge it with the butt of his plasma rifle. Instead he found himself stepping back, as the kid was suddenly in front him. The kid freaked him the fuck out when they got close to the bugs. It was normal enough under some circumstances, having normal quirks, and often joined in if a game of ball was going through he suspected it was not because of the company; it was more of something to do. He continued to muse absently. He really didn't mind the Kid but it needed to stop going from being semi normal to freaky in nought to sixty. Knowing that he had been 'cloned' or whatever the fuck they called it didn't do wonders for his nerves or that fact that Ripley was now part of those fucking things that had kicked his ass on LV426. The fact that Ripley had given birth six months ago and that said infant was now normally found on their numerous operation '**fuck you, bug**' gave him a severe case of the Wiggins. Hudson waited for the kid to follow and was about to try nudging it along when it suddenly knelt down beside the fallen drone and casually reached inside the partial jaw that hanging out, looking as if it was searching its throat cavity for a lost item. Well, not something. He knew what it was.

The Kid would always bring back the inner jaws complete with drool and present them to Call. No one knew why and the secretive android never let on. Call just took the macabre gift and almost as if it was petting a canine, petted the kid on the head. He didn't get it. The whole thing was factually bullshit. The fact that said kid should have still been crawling around with a shit rag covering its ass was also something that seriously messed with his sense of calm. But, such is life, Hudson mused and right now was not the time to get into an internal debate about how screwed it was.

Vasquez was waiting at the top of the ying-yang shaped tunnel facing down the blackness armed with a new and improved smart gun – or what passed for one in the future. The others were already half way back through the blackened foliage to the Betty. None of them liked to stay once the welcome wagon was in place. Johner was not a soldier; he would have been at home three and a half thousand years back in some coliseum swinging a club but that did not mean that Vasquez did not like him. In his own way he reminded her of her once best buddy Drake who like Johner lived for action and had more fun brawling than anything else. She quirked a smile suddenly and made a mental note to make sure that Johner's bunk was not empty tonight. Checking her communicator she responded to the silent hail from the ship, reporting that there was no movement, mission still in progress.

She did not show it when Hudson and the kid came into view but her grip eased a fraction on the trigger and her steady breathing slipped further into something bordering completely relaxed. It helped matters that she knew the kid would be the first one on the offensive if it felt one of the bugs coming within a hundred miles of them. Slinging her rifle over a bronzed and toned shoulder and hefting herself over a ridge that was made of alien by product she took point, leading the way back to the bowels of their air ticket off this world and on the way to another, off to save the human race.

Dark eyes took in the sudden flash of light from the safety of the cockpit. Ripley felt satisfaction as the mushroom shaped cloud billowed through the atmosphere. No other nests had been found on this planet and it was out of the way enough for the blast not to be picked up by the united system military. A small smile creased her lips at the thought of the military. They had not been pleased when she and her rag tag group of commandos, mercenaries and civilians had started stealing weaponry, smashing labs and stealing data. Nor were they pleased when she nuked her first nest site and dashed the hopes of the new version of the fucking 'Company' white suits for bio weapons. They had come upon this planet by chance but it didn't matter if it was the US assholes site or an independent. The aliens would be stopped. Tilting her head, Ripley looked behind her at the jubilant voices now kicking up a ruckus in the cargo hold.

"Stop your grinnin' and drop your linen! Anyone order the Bug Soufflé?"

"Prettiest thing I seen all week, man.. Oh! Look at it spurt up baby! Hey, Vriess, shame you can no longer get your schlong to do that eh, buddy? Yeaaah!"

Hudson proceeded to half-heartedly grapple with Johner as they watched the bomb ignite. Satisfaction oozed from every single pore. Another bug colony dusted. Booyah. Ripley stood at the door and watched them, each congratulating each other with something akin to a smile. It was ghostly but it was still there. When they dry-docked or landed at some off the channel outpost her crew would get drunk, brawl and let loose. They deserved it. Stepping forward she laid a hand on Vasquez's back and returned the slight nod. Stepped past the still grappling Hudson and Johner, nodded to Hicks and Vriess, completely ignored the relatively new non-marine/mercenaries that had rallied to their cause and stopped in front of the window.

"No problems?"

It wasn't so much of a question as a statement. Of course there had been no problems, if there had of been even at the distance she had of been she would of felt it. Ripley reached out and ran a hand along silken hair until it reached equally soft skin. Cocking her head she realised that she had grown again. She was now almost seven months old and fully formed into that of a teenager, the humanity in the DNA must of offset the alien that the rapid growing stopped once a certain point was achieved; allowing for a natural maturity. In her eyes her child, her little Chasey was perfect and most of all she was hers and she did not have to worry that she would lose her as she lost Amanda. Her Amy. Or like Newt.

"No problems."

Their conversations were always short, whatever needed to be said was but there was no direct need for vocal communication. Ripley stroked her nails down her child's back in a strong downward motion and noticed that as she did so the tension her young was displaying slowly began to ebb. It had been her choice to allow her to start venturing into relatively small hives, taking what should have been her place while she stayed at the ship and coordinated with Call. Call had been vehement in her protestations so much so that a non-alien human hybrid probably would of taken offence. It did not matter to the android that at first she had not trusted Ripley Eight; she had in front of the group eluded that she was not human and that she was not to be trusted. Seems like she never learned. Ripley suspected that Call had another reason for not liking the child to leave her sight. She suspected it every time Chase would present her with another inner tongue-mouth, the way Call would take it and then pat her head always made her thin lipped smile show, however brief. Call was more attached than she would like to admit.

"We will land at Elunaria Six in four hours. Backwater cattle colony that is large enough for refuel. Keep Johner, Hudson and the others from the whorehouses especially Johner and away from the craps tables. Call will interface with the network again. Those bastards must be feeling lonely by now."

"Yes. No breaking."

With a last rub Ripley turned and walked away, passing a chain smoking Hicks who had been eyeing them with curiosity. When Ripley was out of earshot he regarded the kid. She had a name but since Ripley hardly spoke it and most had taken to calling her 'The Kid' he had fallen in to addressing her as such. Breathing the smoke deep into his lungs he dropped down from his seat on the crates of supplies and wandered to the larger viewing port. He noted that the kid eyed him from the corner of her eyes but did not come out with a 'Hi, how are ya, Hicks?' but he guessed being looked at was more than what the others usually got. Hell, it took Hudson at least half a year to stop being freaked out with his own gene pool let alone something with one twice as fucked up.

"Yeah.. Docking in a couple of hours."

When he did not get a response, Hicks carried on, eluding that, as she was to join them for 'shore leave' him and Vasquez would show her the sights. Flicking the ash of his cigarette, slowly rotating the butt between his forefinger and thumb he sighed. Getting the kid to talk to those who weren't Call or Ripley took the patience of Job. He hated bible school.

The Betty's engines fired to life, a vapid roar was heard by all and those that could be bothered raced for the cockpit and the safety of the seats, all except Chase and Call who were content with looking at the still smoking spot on the planets surface, so engrossed Call missed the squared shaped alien beacon whiz past the aft port window, the Kid did not recognise it as significant if her eyes did see it.


	2. First Impressions Of The Best Kind

It had not taken them long – it had become increasingly necessary for a clan to mark their own hunts; each with a beacon to warn or to welcome depending on those landing. When the devices hails had not been answered, like it had been programmed to it phoned home. First there had been anger. Anger as numerous pairs of eyes had watched the recording the machine had made. A ship; an ooman ship had landed and then within two hours had departed, leaving their carefully cultivated Kainde Amedha hive obliterated; nothing was salvageable. The elder of the clan had at first expressed anger, then disbelief followed swiftly by curiosity.

Oomans, the famous soft meat preys hunting the Kainde Amedha?

Ridiculous!

It was enough to give the elder a headache; enough of one to also make him issue orders for the trail to be found and the oomans were to be followed. It again did not take them long. Within the space of two days they had found them. The reactor signature matched perfectly as did the ships design. The elder, having simmered down his temper wanted the oomans taken alive, after a fashion. Those that would come without violence would be taken; those that fought would be taken by force and if that force turned deadly then so be it – his wall could always use more trophies and even through soft meat prey could sometimes be more bothersome than their hides were worth; a trophy from something that killed hard meats was a worthy addition to any hunters wall.

With a final command to all those under his command the elder issued a last message via their comm. system.

"Dtai'k-dte sa-de nav'g-kon dtain'aun bpide.."

With a short burst of static the message ended.

Di'Sha growled low in his throat. Here they were surrounded by oomans, Tarei'hsan's; the lowest of those that were preyed upon and were they about to hunt them? Adorn their walls with skulls and have songs sung about their glorious hunt? Pauk no. H'tch hissed a warning. Di'Sha silenced himself but he was not about to let his own brother issue anything to him, he should be showing deference but anger gave him blinkers about how he felt at the fact his Chiva had been vaporised. Pauking oomans.

They had traced minute quantities of the ship that had been in orbit and then landed on the chosen Chiva planet, which had used their version of the 'Kiss of Midnight' and then left. It had taken them two cycles to track it, with most of his time spent posturing for the females who turned their noses up without seeing him marked and carrying the heads of his kills. This put an even tighter coil on his fury and he also knew that he was not the only unblooded who thought this way. He and the others had become excited when the news broke out that the renegade ooman ship had been confirmed and that they were to land and 'capture' them.

Talk about unsatisfactory. He also hated the smells and sights of this backwater ooman infested world. The elders had ordered reconnaissance, not termination, which had angered the un-blooded, but the open defiance had been crushed and now they were here; observing the soft meat prey as they wandered around, seemingly inebriated by C'ntlip.

"H'tch, I see no reason to heed the elders, these ooman scum hunted the hard meat and are now celebrating the victory. We should claim ultimate dishonor and claim their carcasses for the re-seeding."

H'tch did not respond. He did not even glance at the posturing un-blooded warrior that was his kin and instead was obeying orders, as were at least twenty of his clan.

"The elders have spoken."

"The oomans have hunted our prey. It is our right to wipe them as thieves from this planet."

"That is not your decision nor mine. We will obey orders."

H'tch turned away and concentrated on keeping the pack of oomans that had strutted down the lowered ramp of their craft and with much whooping and hollering had filed into the collection of ooman dwellings. His helmet was able to distinguish between the varying dins and every so often the Yautja did his version of a grin.

Civilisation.

The music was loud and filled with needless innuendo but it suited the environment. It contained phrases that she was not familiar with and storing this information away for later use simply followed after the ones she had been commanded to watch over. Only the little woman Vasquez chose to talk to her but after a while the almost toxic smelling 'refreshments' called to her before delicate palette and she started to seem bored with the clipped answers she received. Yes, the situation was acceptable. Yes, she would follow where they lead. No, she did not wish to consume something that smelled worse than Johner or as bad as the stink the metal chair that Vriess used to move.

The air was not…unpleasant but the settlement could do with letting fresh air into their receptors. Despite what the occupants of the Betty thought, she was not un-talkative; they just did not speak to her how Mother did. They did not sense rather than see the subtle nuances in their communication; how posture, scent determined how she and mother responded. Too human; she supposed. It would probably be a benefit to start to show Vasquez how to communicate fully – she was probably Chase's favorite human, swiftly followed by uncle Vriess.

It would make things so much easier for them to know when she was happy or sad or needed attention. It didn't help that sometimes she did not understand why they did things or what certain things meant. It was sometimes exhausting trying to keep up with the disorganised train of communication.

She looked sideways at Hudson who was now waving some kind of currency at some half naked human. Vasquez's smile had her wondering, upon leaning closer to Vasquez she learned why after a giggly whisper. Choosing to not lean back and instead staring at the object that now had Vasquez and Hicks half rolling with hilarity in their seats. Chase took a quick sniff in the direction of the 'female' appearing human. She did not understand. Did Hudson not know that it was not strictly female? Did he prefer males to females or was he just too drunk to care?

A cool hand was suddenly on her shoulder, squinting at the cigarette smoke Hicks also leaned over and with a grin had explained that the old refuelling station had become home to an arcutrian clan. She did not know what an arcutrian was and shook it off as a varying type of human. Hicks meanwhile carried on with his explanation, probably because she was not moving away from his company. Some humans liked to pretend to be female, and some liked to pretend to be male. He said it was hit or miss sometimes which one you ended up with after a few bottles of shit.

Right there and then she swore she would never consume anything that contained alcohol – she preferred to know what was happening, the who, the what and the whys being much safer. Chase moved from left to right, using her body weight to move her chair back into a less well-lit area. The light did not bother her any, she just preferred having a vantage point if a re-enactment of Johner Vs The entire Universe happened which tended to happen a lot of the time his feet touched either earth or space station metal. It would not do to be disciplined by Mother in such a way again after the last time. Her neck ached in sympathy to her thoughts just thinking about it.

Mothers claws always seemed harsher than that of the breed.

"..Kid.. Hey Kid. Book, C'mon.."

Blinking, the one who was referred to as "Kid" realised that she was being left behind again. In a fluid motion she strode after them, wondering how much longer they would continue to bar hop and if they would be done with it soon. Time was a familiar concept and they had been at whatever this ritual was for more than six hours and she could see that some of the group were suffering from the amount of beers they had chosen to wallow in. They were talking again and she picked up meaningful titbits every so often; this time they were going to a see a fight. Johner then ranted that he was feeling lucky and that nothing short of 'an army' or 'droids up the ass' would be able to 'fuck with his shit'.

Cocking her head Chase came to the conclusion that while Johner was big and had muscle in his current state he would not be good for a real fight. A couple of smacks, maybe more and he would be on his back with something broken. Her features tightened at that thought. No, they would not be broken. Her lips thinned into a foreboding line as they reached their destination. Screams, cries and raucous laughter assailed her eardrums and every so often there was strange noises, whirring sounds then followed by screams. Still, no matter what was in there. None of it would be given the chance to even contemplate attempting to break one of her humans.

"Vasquez. Johner is not suited to this act."

When she did not receive an answer Chase was sorely tempted to grab Johner by the neck, immobilize him and take him back kicking and screaming to Ripley but part of her knew that she wouldn't do it. She rather relished silence on occasion and was sure that while he would not be able to land a blow her eardrums would suffer from the prolonged yelling. With an uncharacteristic snort, eye roll and a sigh the kid kept her own council and simply stayed close on Hicks heels. Chase rolled her eyes again; Stupid Johner and his stupid ideas. She felt a beating coming on and this time no amount of her issuing repentant squeaks would save her ass from the mother. She just knew it.

Johner was already in line and banging his left heel in preparation and did not hear her comment. For this Chase was a little grateful – Johner had little patience sometimes and gone were the days where she had the 'aww look, little baby..' factor and of course sometimes he had no time for a "thing" and frequently taunted her on a verbal level if she got in his way when he was pissy. Many a time the android Call had called him off, either shutting air locked doors in his face or sending her away. Vasquez had also come to her defence yelling right back at the big lug to 'go grab some Midol and go buy some tampons'. There was no Call, no air lock and no Mother to keep them apart now.

"He won't last. No money."

Vasquez took her time in answering. The kid was right but Johner was Johner.

"Yeah amiga, nothing or no one will tell him any different. You know that. Just do as I tell ya to, okay? Maybe put him in a triple tag or something and we can have some fun ourselves hey 'miga?"

Chase did not nod in response as she normally did; instead her attention was caught by something by the perimeter. She had barely caught it but her gut…well something inside her told that there was something there. It had been brief. A small shimmer effect similar to heat waves and then as soon as she had zeroed it, it had gone. Cocking her head and squinting into the distance as she had seen the others do when trying to clock something until she and Vasquez were suddenly pushed in the throng of patrons scrabbling to find a seat.

The throng of people pushing and shoving separated her from her hive. Lost in the crowd Chase tried to nimbly dodge and duck here and there and make it back to where her companions were but instead she was seemingly herding herself further and further away. Unwilling and also unable to issue a challenge and make them back off she instead turned and moved with the crowd. Until she saw a few struts that held a huge set of lights obviously used for the security of the perimeter. Seeing a golden opportunity to (a) get out of the stampeding crowd and (b) zero in on her pack, dove at the nearest pole and fluidly wrapped her legs around the strut and with a graceful upwards roll dug her claws into the metal above her and with another flinging twist of her body landed on the security rim.

A series of faint electronic beeps preluded a faint crackle as H'tch raised his cloak. He sat on top of an ooman metallic structure and continued feeding the mother ship everything he saw. If he found Di'Sha's impatience annoying he did not show it, he was a hunter, proven with numerous skulls under his belt to prove his prowess. He shared his sire's interest in the massacre of the Chiva site – had oomans landed there and found the hard meat in residence and chosen to fight or did they simply make a habit of cleansing all worlds of the prey?

H'tch was at a stage in his life of being curious of all prey and not set on the numbers that he slew but the quality. A seemingly endless herd of oomans were either entering or leaving a caged structure some thirty steps from his position. It was as he were surveying the never-ending tide that H'tch picked out a small ooman seeming to bounce around in the masses. Similar to how a lion would choose a gazelle from its herd H'tch regarded it. It was definitely either a very young brand of ooman or it was a runt. But he could not deny its ease with circumnavigating its own kind, a hop here, a slide there and all done without being bumped into.

He raised an eyebrow and thrilled lowly in his throat when the ooman stopped and stared at the metallic structure he and his brother were currently camped on. A light crackle to the right of H'tch told him that Di'Sha had raised his cloak. Even through it was pitch night it would not serve them to be detected. A mandible twitched again this time followed by a ragged growl as the ooman with another display of flexibility was suddenly twined around one of the circular poles holding this portion of the structure alight and then was almost flying with a twisted buck digging its hands into the metal directly to the right of him!

A scant heartbeat later it had flung itself over the lip and landed in a crouch, surveying the multitude below it. Had the pathetic thing seen them? Staying perfectly still H'tch tapped a message to his brother commanding him to remain still while readying his right arms wrist blades to extend at a moments notice.

The ooman stayed stock still appearing to be a statue of the death god, Cetanu. H'tch regarded the ooman, aware that not only were the others of his clan seeing but his personal camera was also recording. Close up it appeared he was right. It was definitely the runt of the litter it came from. Instead of coils or dread locks it wore its hair loose like the majority of its kind, which spread out in the light breeze when it raised its arms above its head and started to arch in what was only a feminine act. An act that was as delightful on an alien female as much as it was on a Yautja.

Di'Sha made a small noise, a mix between an exclamation and a purr, which was silenced upon receiving a taloned blow on his thigh. The ooman female however had heard the small sound. Raising his eyes to the heavens at the stupidity of his youngest brother H'tch cursed him silently. The female had turned its head and despite the fact he knew that both of their cloaks were working perfectly, bending the light around them and gifting them with invisibility he wondered why he was receiving what appeared to be a level stare.

Warning flooded through him when the female leaned towards him and appeared to scent the air. Oomans did not have the capacity to do this, this he knew from extensive research over the past two cycles. But his visor was not lying, he watched as small nostrils extended and then deflated, heard the soft intake of breath from each movement. He felt Di'Sha become agitated behind him and if he could of he would of hissed another warning when the oomans gaze fell somewhere else and the silence was broken by other ooman voices, this time closer.

The stare he thought he was receiving did not move. It appeared that he was not the recipient, those who were doing their best impression of 'patrolling' the wall. Oomans had no idea how easy they were to attack or infiltrate. Their version of patrolling was that lax if he chose to hunt after those his sire wanted were captured, this lot would be an easy kill, he thought darkly. They had passed them about two or three times previously and were obviously drawn to the runty ooman female pivoting where she should not be.

Three oomans, obviously males stopped behind him and started to nudge and gesture each other with raucous calls to each other. If he could of he would of chuckled. 'Piece of ass' 'Baby tah tahs' and 'Smokin!' were words he was familiar with in a fashion. It was obvious that the small pack of males were pleased with the fact that the runty female had appeared.

Curious how the female did not answer what was obviously a mating call. Even a runt Yautja would be on its back and presenting within a heartbeat if a male so much as twitched a mandible in its direction.

The behaviour was strange. It was stranger that the males became more aggressive when the female began to slink backwards as if dismissing them. The timber of the voices became angry.

"..Look here ya little bitch.. we're just tryin' to be friendly.. right boys? You won't like us when we ain't be friendly so why don't you come here and we'll all be best friends.. huh?'

Would they attempt force to initiate mating? It would be a pleasure, the word stressed deep in his thoughts, to dispatch them if they sought to use force. His honor would not stand for a female of any race to be so dishonoured. He stood to his feet slowly and ignored the surprised hiss from his brother instead grinned at the sound of his wrist blades extending fully and it became apparent that the closest ooman male heard it also as he whirled in alarm but not before the leader was suddenly flung into his targets back.

The smaller of the trio were laying against the metal fence appearing for all intensive purposes dazed and confused. A strangled sound got his attention and he whirled round intent on dealing with the uppity dishonorable cur that was 'leader'. H'tch stopped his advance and cocked his head looking at where the male was flung from, eyes widening slightly behind his protective visor.

The female had a hand round the remaining males neck.

The runty female had her hand wrapped round the male's windpipe and appeared to be applying fierce pressure.

The weak, frail and runty female while throttling the male was also holding him a good six inches from the ground.

The female was in no hurry it seemed to claim life either. It stood there and calmly held, no longer bothering to apply pressure as it had stopped struggling. H'tch saw a piece of material flapping slightly in the small breeze and could of smiled – ah. So the male had touched the female without consent, ripping her garment and that was why she reacted. His communicator vibrated, alerting him that Di'Sha had signalled him. He answered the silent transmission from Di'Sha with simple words. 'Stand Ready'. Not that he was worried in the slightest; this was obviously a fluke, a female albeit an appearingly frail one had simply gotten lucky.

Shame the male wouldn't feel so lucky when he recovered, he thought as it was flung from the female's person and landed in a heap. The other males departed to obviously lick their wounds from an unsuccessful assignation; he wondered how that felt, to be denied a female. It would be a blow to any male's ego to be denied, especially by what appeared to be on the outside, a female of lower status and stature. If silence was not something that was required right here and now he would of bellowed in mirth.

Reaching up to stroke a small boned necklace he idly wondered what the ooman female would do now – it would not be safe for it to stay in this vicinity if the males decided to come back and bring more. Casually observing the specimen again, H'tch tapped the command to change the visor to infrared. The female suddenly became an index of green, red, pink and blue. In excellent health with no discernable genetic deficiencies.

Another masculine ooman voice broke his reverie and it also took the females attention. Casting a look at his feet he saw a large male attempting to steady himself against the metallic tubes.

"Hey Chasey Brat. You comin' to watch uncle Johner stomp the shit outta some backwater motherfuckers? C'mon down. The guys are signing me up. Good times, man."

Looking back at female that was addressed as 'Chasey Brat' H'tch wondered if the hulking ooman below him was its mate. If it was then no wonder it had been upset when propositioned by other males that by no means matched the stature of what it was used to. The female, instead of trilling or answering her mate started to stare in his direction again and again took a deep breath of the air. H'tch wondered if it could of scented the slightly aroused smell both he and his younger sibling had emitted earlier when it had stretched in that delightful fashion but did not have time to confirm if it had as the female hopped over the wall like a yabberwocky and slid down to the floor, landing on the back of the male waiting below.

H'tch and Di'Sha moved position after their strange meeting with an ooman. It appeared as if the structure all the oomans were entering into was a version of a Kv'var or Kehrite. It made perfect sense that the male that had claimed that spirited little female was competing in a match. There were multiple cages and arenas below them and it was seemingly impossible to distinguish the oomans if they chose to find that pair again. So instead they followed orders and waited. Another group was in charge of inspecting the ooman vessel and finding DNA to scan, which would lead them to the pack that they hunted. Settling on their new perch, the big males watched what oomans called 'Cage fighting' with mild interest.

It was a quarter of a cycle later when a data stream was sent to all the clan dispatched on the ooman planet. The DNA could not be matched as the ship was constantly under watchful eyes. Instead the elder had ordered the clans engineer to trace for matching iodes from the ships reactor from their own data. The message commanded all Yautja to upgrade their scanners, seek and capture and return to the rendezvous point.

It was with pleasure that when H'tch swept his scanner over the occupants of the dome below that seven oomans stood out, colored in a vibrant magenta color. It was with further pleasure when they returned to the outer rim when they began to leave the arena that when he switched back to normal viewing that the runt and her hulking mate were amongst the seven that were to be hunted. A slight movement by both had their helmets tune into the commotion that was now happening with the to be hunted group and another faction that had followed them.

H'tch watched, mildly amused as one of the oomans picked themselves up and ran at the one that had flung him. Oomans had no idea how to fight with honor. One move and he would of snapped that one's neck but instead they stood there trading blows while others watched, pointing, rumbling noises in varying pitches accompanying shrieks and limbs flung in their direction.

"Johner, you son of a bitch..!"

".. Get him man! Woo hoo.. That's how the Bug Hunters throw down, baby! Yeah!"

"..Handle your business bitches. He will try busting your head if you stop him when he's on a roll."

Bug Hunters. H'tch clicked his mandibles thoughtfully. The fact that oomans considered themselves hunters was amusing; amusing enough to perk his interest. There had long ago been a ban on hunting oomans. Through not as tricky as the hard meat they were predicable enough to know that they would call for reinforcements or barricade themselves where the yautja weapons could not go, nor hunters bent on face to face combat.

H'tch again looked down at the group, watching with interest when the little female from before suddenly sauntered forward in a classic threat display. Give her a set of mandibles, dreadlocks and bigger anatomy and he'd of pressed a claim there and then.

Tapping at his wrist he activated his own personal Gkinmara and prepared to record the confrontation. He found it amusing that while Yautja females were larger the ooman variations were usually smaller. Di'Sha grunted, obviously enjoying the fight even through it was by their standards tame; similar to parading young sucklings.

"..There they are, Boss. They're the cheating scum, Boss."

Both Yautja took in the arrival of more oomans to the brawl. It seemed the newest arrivals had weapons with them. Di'Sha chuckled softly and elbowed H'tch.

"Finally. Oomans with backbone, I should walk in there and show them how to use them, my Elder?"

H'tch grunted and attempted to re scan the ragtag group that seemed intent on fighting in the open. The word "Kid" was not lost on him; it meant youngling in ooman tongue and he was surprised that ooman females let their young travel with elder clansmen. The oomans were some twenty strides from them now. It would be interesting to view this situation; was it an ooman trial or was the male attempting to impress the two females with him? It was also disconcerting that the one called "Kid" would periodically look in Di'Sha's and his direction every so often. It had not alerted the others that they were there and he knew for damned sure that his cloaking device was not faulty – unlike his younger brother.

Chase halted as Vasquez again laid a hand on her shoulder. There were weapons now and Johner, while he was big would also be slow. It did not take an idiot to work out that while the big man was formidable, he was weaker when he was high on Rolling Rocks and whatever the madam at the strip club had given him. Chase was also edgy. Ever since the strange group of other humans followed them from the last bar under the pretence of to 'settle the dispute like real men' she had the feeling that they were being watched. Every so often the hairs on the back of her neck would prickle and the alien in her would have her look into the dusk, scanning the outer perimeter of the compound.

Instinct was screaming like it had earlier that something was there on the perimeter wall where she had been earlier. She did not see anything but there was that strange smell. Another scuffle, followed by a loud grunt from Johner had her attention again. The strangers now were all brandishing weapons; nothing to worry about. Clubs and metal poles but they could still damage and Johner was now sidling from side to side.

"There are six."

Vasquez was half holding Hudson upright when the Kid made the statement and even through she was in agreement and if she didn't have Hudson to hold up even she herself would risk Johner's wrath to even the odds a little. None of them needed a feral Ripley ragging on them on their way to another site zero to nuke if the kid had so much as a scratch on her. She doubted that they could deal with Call when they had slept off tonight's excitement either. Sighing she hefted Hudson a little more securely and nodding at Hicks nudged the kid in the side and nodded.

"Make it quick, kid. We don't need no colony Rambo's coming for our ass later."

Chase leapt into action. Half flipping her way to the first assailant she heard Vasquez laugh as she reached out and span him like a bottle top on a table. A second later she slammed her fist into his midsection. A grunt followed by a rapid exhale of breath and a dull thud later, she was upon the second of her 'victims'. Methodically, Chase hopped onto her left foot and struck out with her right. A scream later, followed by a foot to the jaw and the second victim was out for the count. By this time the remaining four had turned their backs to a swaying Johner and now faced her. Reminding herself that these were not drones and tended to break easier and that she was of course not to break them under any circumstances, merely stood, eyeing the brandished weapons.

"Well.. What have we here, boys? GI Jane? Baby… Honey.. Go back to the bar. Ain't got no fight with you but this sack of shit here ripped me and my boys off, see? And I don't take well to thieves in my bar."

Chase noticed that the speaker was the leader and from the way he was speaking did not see her as a threat. She absently wondered if that should please her or annoy her. Passing that snippet of thought to be pondered over later and coming to the realisation that Mother would not want any of the group she was assigned to hurt or arrested by colony officials, crossed her arms similar to how Vasquez did when confronted with something that pissed her off.

"Leave."

Her answer at first was laughter, which she ignored in favor of that prickling sensation again; casting a look over her shoulder at the perimeter fence again. She had felt it again, eyes. A scrape of shoe sole upon the dirt had her whirling and ducking like a dervish; a second later her face would have been full of metal pole that she was sure already had Johner's name on it. She stayed where she was, instead eyeing the ragtag bunch of humans that obviously sought to break her like she would break a drone. As they circled her she already had a series of moves depending on what they did ready for use. Unlike them she was wiry, agile and while she did not appear to have much in way of muscle packed a worse punch than Johner. So much so she could bet herself that if she chose she could embed the last of the four in the metal without too much trouble.

"C'mon girlie, you better suited to indoor entertainment and because of this we don't wanna hurtcha.. ain't that right boys?"

The way the words were spoken were not familiar but the tone was – it was similar to how Hudson spoke to a 'piece of prime ass' when he was 'sniffing the skirts' and reminded her of her earlier activities when she had been semi attacked by other men. Snorting softly she ignored the comment and instead looked over her shoulder at the perimeter fence. The prickling sensation was still there but for the moment she would forget it. They would need a way out of here fast, noting that the fence was metal she came to the conclusion that she would bleed it out of the way if they got boxed in. Mouth set in a grim line she turned her attention back to the wannabe Johner breakers.. Time to play.


	3. Good First Impression Ends With a BANG!

H'tch was impressed. The little female ooman he had dismissed as a minor threat had taken out two twice its size in a matter of milliseconds. Impressive. He saw it pause and also sensed Di'Sha's interest as the fight took another turn. Wondering why the accompanying males and lone female would allow the smallest to take the brunt they were both further surprised when the female yet again faced and attacked. The oomans it set itself on were dispatched like child's play.

From the distance H'tch heard the snaps and cracks as the ooman female brutalised her fellow species. The elder yautja felt the stirrings of excitement. The little ooman was proficient, very able actually. The way it used its whole body, balancing on hands, to feet, using said hands, viciously almost impaling her opponants with her elbows and then its feet to inflict such damage -was- very amusing.

"H'tch! How can something so small be taking apart others of superior size so easily? I dismissed it earlier as being lucky! It is like watching a pack of hard meat tear into new cattle to be harvested, is it not?"

No, H'tch thought. Di'Sha was not immune to the prospects of this human as potential prey. Within moments the spectacle they had been both enjoying was over. The big Yautja's both shifted in something akin to surprise bordering on pleasure when the ooman turned its attention from the fallen and began to 'stalk' to their location. Through they had not been given leave to hunt, a kill in defence or from being discovered was not punishable.

H'tch shifted his weight when the ooman flew at the odd wiry fence that was gate like in appearance below them and began attack it with the same fever as it had the males. Eyeing it as it fell back and took to a knee, grasping a small blade, akin to an eating knife and slashed at its own arm.

"What the Pauk is it doing, H'tch.. Cjit!"

Troubled, H'tch shifted again and controlled himself from answering Di'Sha who had clicked in alarm and asked him if he knew what the ooman was doing. The answer.. no he did not.

He was further confused when the ooman finished slashing at its arm and flung its thwei at the metal it was so intent on forcing its way through. Leaning over what was obviously some kind of support strut he hissed in alarm. Its thwei was doing something it shouldn't. It was mimicking hard meat thwei and it had used it to weaken the defensive wall. Hissing at Di'Sha to retreat he watched as the ooman began again to attack the wall again, its way made easier by the corrosive blood rapidly eating its way through it.

Within seconds there was a sizable hole made larger by brute force. Mandibles twitching, H'tch snarled into his communicator as the pack of oomans were through the hole and were spiriting themselves away into the surrounding area. Four including the little female ooman went to the left; another two went to the right. He hissed at the implications; they were scattering and the loud ooman vocalisation pointed that they would meet up at their ship.

"H'tch.. We saw that. Its thwei, it was like hard meats? It used its thwei to escape. Right? We saw that didn't we?"

H'tch did not reply. He was currently receiving a message from the elder of his clan, within a mere moment his orders were received and he heard various greetings being chirruped from all sides as the others of his clan zeroed in on his position. They had all seen it, a dirty ooman, the thing they referred to as 'soft meat' with hard meat blood.

She had heard it and she had smelled it. As she had crashed through the supposed impregnable fence, she had heard the strange bird like call again. If there had not been the sound of sirens in the distance she would of not of made a hasty get away with Johner, Vasquez, Hicks, Vriess, Hudson and co. She would of searched for it. The scent was vaguely familiar; she herself had never smelled it the quantities she was now but she felt on some level that she had smelled the musky scent before and not on this world. Running behind the frantically weaving Johner, attempting to keep him with the others she narrowed her eyes in annoyance at the sound of someone following them, a group of someone's. Heavy footfalls. Were they the 'Colony Rambo's'? They were very heavy, and that scent was behind them, moving. Moving towards them.

"Vasquez!"

Sprinting past Johner and stopping in front of a panting Hudson and Vasquez, she raised a fist and circled it. The sign for incoming company - hostiles or non-hostiles. Immediately those that had been either running with, ahead of or following scattered, finding potions between or on the colony infrastructures. None of them were armed really. Johner was always packing but he was in no shape to be putting together a contraband firearm, and for once Vasquez had left her old school 9mm behind. It was up to her then.

If they were the Colony Rambo's it would be easy to drop down in the middle of them and render them in capable of 'breaking' anything. She would be soft and not hurt them too badly. Eyes brightening at what seemed to be the plan, Chase half vaulted up the wall to her left, scaling it and then lying flat, watching the way they came for movement.

The communicator on her wrist vibrated softly. Keeping an eye on down below she read the screen quickly before typing 'Danger. Stay.' Flattening further against the metal, a decidedly alien drone trick, she again stared hard at the corridor they had just run up. Nothing moved. Nothing moved and she couldn't hear anything but that musky scent practically bathed the area now – eluding that there were at least a few of whatever the smell preceded. What did they want? Not her humans. Fisting her hands against the metal she winced as her elongated claw like nails swiped along the surface, softly breaking the silence with a short but sharp swipe.

Closing her eyes, she could already see mother berating her for the slip. The smell, that cloying, sweet smell was getting stronger, holding back a sneeze she saw what was following them. They were almost invisible; they somehow managed to bend the light around them until all that was left were brief waves, resembling heat waves. You wouldn't know it unless you were seriously looking for it, like she was. She counted in excess of six – there could be more at varying points of the open ceiling corridor. Open air. Looking up and focusing her gaze she quickly picked off a lone one in the distance that was climbing its way up the metal.

'How did they track us? How can they track me?' were the thoughts that raced through Chases' head as the figures came closer. How could she tell the ones hiding below her vantage point to fight them if she knew they could not pin point them?

H'tch lead the chase, and chased they did as the Elder decreed. It was easy to track them; the multifunctional viewing screen easily tracked them on infrared. Twenty of the blooded and un-blooded had followed him, their own visors allowing them to chase their 'prey' down as they followed him. Turning a corner at the run, he saw the smallest of them rear up suddenly, its heat signature was incredibly faint but it was still there and fling itself against the strange ooman made barrier and race up the slick surface. His left mandible twitched in amusement. The little one was entertaining in its naivety; he, H'tch did not ever lose that which he hunted. He would enjoy hunting such an ooman if he was so permitted.

He sent a silent message via his helmet communicator and his left mandible against twitched at the responses. A small hand signal sent a lone un-blooded to the also scale the wall. Somehow that so called pathetic little ooman female saw them. It did not see them through the cloak but it saw the heat signatures that they left. He saw how it flattened itself against the ooman wall until it appeared almost blended with it. H'tch also heard the soft metallic scrape, a tell that it at least was now armed.

He watched with something akin to humor as Di'Sha began to stalk atop the wall, his attention on the cowering oomans that were underneath the one he should be watching. Would it attack? He raised his fist, fingers slaying and then fisting again and those behind him kept to a slower pace, mirroring Di'Sha's progress along the wall. H'tch noted that he was almost on top of the ooman, either he did not see it or was not interested in the smaller one as he earlier thought.

He did not have any more time to muse as a warning shout from Di'Sha had the yautja unit all looking to his position just in time to see him tossed to the floor in front of them. His assailant seemed to fly down and land on the stunned un-blooded yautja warriors back as he got to his feet, sending him back into his face plant.

H'tch watched with a hunter's trained eye as the little ooman wrapped itself around the fallen hunter in training, attempting to simultaneously cut off his air supply by way of throat and also restrict his movements. Effective. He would not lie either, seeing his younger sibling being attacked by a small version of the soft meat prey was amusing; it would serve as a warning to him to always expect the un-expected and to never assume that he would not face Cetanu just because something was not of his stature.

The yautja behind him hissed their displeasure at the scene, each watching with mixed feelings at the sight of one of their own being wrestled to the floor. They maintained their silence and their camouflage when the other oomans burst out from hiding, some brandishing weapons, two of them speaking loudly at the small ooman female that was busy, seemingly concentrating on separating Di'Sha's head from his body. Nothing the young hunter in training could do seemed to shake the clawing fury that was on his back. H'tch winced in sympathy as Di'Sha flew back into the wall; and again when he was tossed in another direction. He knew enough of the ooman languages to know what the oomans comrades were busy shouting.

"Holy shit man! What the fuck is that thing..!"

"..Chasey, get outta there! Clear the shot.."

"..SHIT.. I must be seriously fucked; the kid is fighting with herself, man… Chicks.."

"..Kid, clear the shot, clear the shot damnit!"

H'tch had seen enough as Di'Sha half crumpled to the floor, the ooman swiftly letting its grip go, and swinging itself around, bringing its fists into contact. Di'Sha was hissing madly and was now raising his hands to ward off the rapid blows that were clonking against the metal helmet. A static crackle later and H'tch rolled his eyes. Di'Sha's cloaking unit had obviously felt the oomans rage, thus giving it something to see and now really hit. He splayed his fingers, the movement sending the six experienced yautja behind him into position, and at his signal they would each target their shoulder cannons at the attempting to flee oomans; if that did not get their attention then he would give the signal to those that now flanked them to swarm.

Di'Sha was not having a good day – a Pauking ooman was hitting him harder than any of his instructors ever had, attempted to strangle him, had smashed his cloak unit and was now giving him a headache by banging its rocklike fists into his helmet. Letting out a roar, he tried to land his own blows, but the ooman being a lower life-form slithered and slunk around him, and he, a yautja, a superior being continued to hit nothing but the air around him. The worst thing was, was that H'tch, his honoured elder Mei'hswei was watching along with a continuant of blooded and un-blooded alike.

Another blow, this somehow harder than any forthcoming had him seeing stars, literally as his helmet gave under the strain of raining fury. Dazed he watched as the ooman female grabbed his left arm and dragged him forward into the path of a kick of some kind. He could hear the clicks, trills and hisses behind him and the other oomans voices raising in pitch with every single blow the smaller landed on him. Becoming angry again, he tried to trade the ooman in a show of strength, his fists against its. Instead of victory, Di'Sha got another earth shattering kick to the face. Hitting the floor, he felt as if his budding tusks had each been shattered.

"Go kid! Knock that rat fuck sonofabitch into hell, man..!"

Groggily he felt the ooman land on him and if he could of Di'Sha would of snarled at the other ooman who had been and was continuing to encourage his defeat. The ooman settled before he felt a set of sharp pressure points against his jugular. This was no Pauking ooman. No ooman could best a Yautja. No ooman moved like this one did either. This would be a dishonourable death – bested by some kind of Pyode Amedha.

Chase was also not having a good day – first she had been ordered to follow the so called 'best of the baddest' of the Bug Busters as they took in the town, she had been bored at each and every single foul smelling hell hole they had dragged her to, admittedly things had looked up when she took care of those that would of split Johner's head open but then they went from bad to worse again. Her arms hurt from the haphazardly made wounds she made in order to make a quick getaway, they had been chased by invisible things and was now locked in a fight with one of the said things. It was harder to break than an alien drone.

Bigger also once its hidey device had been smashed. She had no concept of the word 'ugly' but it did not look anything like Hicks or Hudson even through Johner possessed a similar type of bulk. Thick cord like things hung like hair, its skin was a murky two-toned color and a strange designed helmet hid its visage. Most annoyingly, no matter how hard she hit it kept getting back up, sounding off with annoying clicks and hissing bringing that sweet smelling scent with it. Having watched it start to do an impression of Johner's sidling earlier she had yanked on its left arm using its weight against it and smashed her foot against its head.

The emotion, when metal flew from its face and it sounded off with an almost moaning growl was most definitely satisfaction.

She was exceedingly satisfied when the hulking things body seemed to give out and it landed on its back with a comforting slap. Which led her to her current position, straddling it with her claws resting against the funny mottled skin, pressing in enough so it knew she meant what Hudson called 'Business'. It continued to growl weakly and Chase being more irritable than normal was sorely tempted to simply give over to the side of her that was practically foaming at the mouth to plunge hands into its body, ripping it into smithereens.

She felt Vasquez come closer brandishing some kind of metal strut, raising her head she heard some strange whirring noise, a strange whirring noise that was not man made and it was coming from more than one position. Cocking her head she blinked. Six sets of three dots in some strange pyramidal state were being shone on her chest. The downed hulking thing made that odd clicking sound again. Taking a deep sniff she realised that the scent was ever so much stronger than before which meant one thing; she had been too intent on taking care of the one that was now at the mercy of her claws to notice that its friends has arrived, friends that were now shining strange things at her, things that were not just in front of her and the others but things that were also behind them.

"Kid.. What the.. FUCK.. Marked.. Hudson, to the rear, man. Shit!"

Vasquez had been watching intently to realise that what Chase had been engaged with was not something they could handle. She prided herself on always remaining frosty no matter how shit hot the situation became or could get but the way that the kid was now acting, combined with the sniper sights that were trained on her shook the supports of her frosty façade. Hudson was busy slapping sense into the still very drunk Johner while dragging him unsteadily closer to the kid and Vasquez. Panic was in his voice as he ripped out a smaller version of his trusty motion sensor. His eyes widened at it picked out at least twelve shapes surrounding them.

"Twelve. Signals clean. Forward and back. What the FUCK is that, them? FUCK."

It took both Hudson and Vasquez a moment to realise that Chase had spoken. Her tone was as low as normal but they both heard the bite within the tone.

"Behind. Close."

H'tch took pity on his younger brother when he heard and saw fragments of his small but well cared for tusks shatter. His younger sibling would not live down the fact that an ooman, a runty ooman female had bested him and also had the balls to threaten to rip his throat out. In seconds six shoulder canons were trained on the scrappy ooman and the signal was given to de cloak and for those at the flank to step closer, bringing the field into a bottleneck. H'tch studied the ooman in his visor as it called the others of its pack to come closer, he also noted the way it pressed whatever weapon he had against his brothers throat harder against the skin – It kept its eyes averted but somehow H'tch knew that as he was staring he in return was being stared at.

One of the other oomans was minding another that was obviously intoxicated beyond all sense, the other female was brandishing something that resembled the basic bakuub spear but it was no threat. If the order were given their cannons would tear all four to pieces via plasma hell.

He and the others received orders; to the non-yautja ear all was heard was a series of clicks, a few hisses followed by guttural sounds that seemed like words being swallowed. To a native they were being told to capture and return. The ooman ship was simultaneously being assimilated. The small female did not look like it would willingly remove itself from almost killing Di'Sha, every step H'tch took closer he could see that it would tense and half shuffle backwards, seeming to easily drag the weight of its victim with her. He called out to his brother, then.

"Di'Sha, report."

A low thrill that was broken off when he was shaken roughly and then turned into a strangled call.

"Pauking.. Ooman.. Hulij-bpe.. Crazed female.."

A few of the older blooded gave low rumbles of mirth at the cocky un-blooded's position. The sound stopped when a low beeping was heard. The sound was not of yautja origin, targeting scopes flew from the ooman with a yautja captive to rest on all of the oomans as they all grasped something adorning their wrists.

Vasquez was the first to comment. It was an automated signal that the A.I Call installed automatically sent when the ship was either under attack or had been compromised. Hudson, seeing the meaningful glare that was sent his way gulped and remained silent. He had no red neck hick thing to say anyhow. He was neck deep in shit already. Johner was shaking himself, slapping at Hudson's hands and making faggot comments, either not realising their predicament or not caring; probably convinced that anything and everything could be solved depending on how much ammo you emptied into said dilemma.

Vasquez reached forward and laid a blow to the side of his head and made ready to lay another on him when he yelled and stared at her. Hudson put on his best shit-eating grin and glanced around him theatrically. It was then Johner came to the same conclusion as Hudson did earlier; neck deep in shit and by the looks of it, it was most certainly the non human kind.

"Woah.."

Johner leant over Vasquez's shoulder down at the kid and what she was still grappling with slightly. Whatever the fuck it was, it was ugly. He was furious to also admit that it was bigger than him, making him appear like a shrimp. Fucking aliens; can an asshole not get a break? Just one and here he was no weapon, not even a stick to throw and scream 'fetch'.

"Seriously. What the fuck, man? First we have those pet science projects on the Auriga, then we go to a dozen other shit-holes and see more and then we get another type of the same fucking shit.. What are we, man.. Cursed? Shit. Hey, are they some new present from the U.M or did we manage to piss off some outta here alien species I ain't ever seen before?"

"Yeah man. You pissed 'em off when you flapped your lips, pendejo."

Vasquez nudged Chase with her foot. She was not surprised when the kid shook her head slowly, but did not answer. The thing she was holding in her deadly grip was becoming seriously pissed off at its treatment. Not that the kid gave a shit. Vasquez raised an eyebrow when the kid stopped staring at what was obviously the leader and turned to her mouthing the word 'Boom'.

It took Vasquez a second to reconcile what the kid was asking – boom as in we're fucked? Or Boom as in bomb and did we have any? The answer to the last was yeah. She always carried a trio of semi seismic scatter grenades. Never knew when they would come in handy and thank fuck for the fact that she, Vasquez was an anal compulsive horder. Lowering the metal bat she had been hefting she snuck her hand to her back pockets and closed her fist around two of her precious babies. Pulling them out into the yellow light she had never been so pleased to see the small egg shaped devices in her life. Keeping her voice neutral she coded the plan what she hoped what idiot speak.

"Hudson, you remember that fire fight in Cuba..? Whole forty-first divisions versus the two best battalions of the corp.? 'member what Apone did?"

They were gonna blow their way outta this. Somehow they were going to blow a hole and hopefully take some of their nice new friends with it and then run hell bent for leather the fuck out of this. Find her a smart gun, maybe a pulse rifle, couple of grenades and _then _there would be a party.


	4. Say Hello TO My Hybrid Alien Friend

Di'Sha felt like he was a suckling again, being hefted, dragged and then plonked unceremoniously wherever the ooman decided to put him. He would give it that it was remarkably strong; there were thousands of stories that said how weak, feeble and dishonourable oomans were but this one was neither weak nor feeble. It was most yautja in its intensity. The rest of the hunting party were talking amongst themselves, every now and then he would move but there would always be a harder press of what felt like mini knifes against his throat.

There was ooman talk infecting his eardrums; Cuba? Apone? He was further irked when it became apparent that the humans had suddenly stopped talking and were now acting as if resigned to something. Resigned to being dishonourable Pauking scum, Di'Sha said to himself. Whatever those little knifes were made of they felt sharper than his own shuriken that was honed on a daily basis to perfection.

"The ooman ship is being assimilated as we speak, Di'Sha. Once these know that their others have surrendered they will let you go little brother or have you finally found a female that is content to not kick you out of her clutches?"

Di'Sha growled loudly at H'tch's running commentary.

Damn him. Damn him to the foulest hard meat infested hole in hell and no weaponry. His growl was cut short yet again as the crazy ooman holding him roughly shook him and pressed her blades deeper into his neck, this time he felt them drawing blood. Filthy soft meat! Spreading his mandibles and letting loose a roar he struggled again, he was not however expecting to be half flung away. Spinning around with intent to take the skull of the ooman scum, all of them if needed he gave a surprised bark when he was yet away flung away, this time by a blast of red hot air.

The explosion was louder than anything else and it had not just flung Di'Sha out of the way.

Di'Sha felt a flicker of amusement at the sight of H'tch getting to his feet. He listened to the angry voices of his hunting party but kept his back to them. The oomans had somehow given the wall a mini version of what they called 'The Kiss Of Midnight' and had escaped through the hole. He could tell from his elder brothers posture and the way his hands kept fisting that the oomans had managed to run far enough quickly enough to be out of scanning range.

He heard H'tch speak and if he had been human, a full-blown shit-eating grin would have been on his face. The prey would return to their ship and it would be there that he, Di'Sha would have his honor restored.

Vasquez wasn't sure how they managed it but the ruse had worked perfectly. She had primed, tossed and then dived along with the others and the hostage had been thrown in front of them. Chase had gotten them through the hole and had insisted on full flight running for what seemed like hours. The kid hadn't even broken a sweat while she, Hudson and Johner were dripping and breathing like steam locomotives. They headed for the main town and kept mingling with the populace; each looking for a sign of their new friends.

It didn't help that ever sound had her hackles up and reaching for an imaginary but equally well wished for smart gun. The Betty was not in the main dock; seeing such a battle scared cruiser would only bring up questions at an outpost like this so they had landed on the outer reaches and there was no one ever around which was probably why the ship was under fire. Well, that wasn't strictly true, she mused. The A.I just sounded off and truthfully she couldn't see Call or Vriess or even Ripley giving in under a firefight.

Still, the thought had her speeding up her gait in an effort to match that of the kid who was almost furiously pounding pavement ahead and kept swinging round with a look of irritation of her elfin features. Vasquez pushed herself harder, shouting at Johner to move his fat ass and swearing at Hudson to start 'humping like the Marine he used to be' earned her a rare smile which she returned. They were close now, over the top of this tarmac hell hill and it was plain sailing. The proud Latino did not see Chase suddenly crouch and become still. When she reached her, her eyes widened but she remained silent. Hudson had no such scruples.

"Oh shit.."

Oh shit was right. None of them, not even the kid had been in the right frame of mind to take notice of the gunfire that was currently being expended. Ripley, Call, Vriess were on one side, what look liked Hicks and the silly trio of new age hippies that passed for wannabe marines on the other, guns blazing while the ships tactical target turrets were also laying down their own brand of justice. A large looming shape was hovering near the ship and from the belly of this beast other looming hulks similar to the thing that Chase had attempted to take apart were dropping to the ground, sending slivers of metal blazing and what appeared to be some kind of raw plasma in the direction of the Betty.

Vasquez took in the scene with a trained eye. Her crew, Ripley, Call, Vriess, Hicks and the new civvies were held tighter than a tick's ass. Mores the problem, hulking reinforcement were also probably coming up from behind them, ready to stick the Kid, Hudson, Johner and herself up everyone else's ass. Splendid.

"Holy shit. How the fuck, THE FUCK are we supposed to get through those things, man?"

Growling at him to be silent Vasquez motioned for silence. They were outnumbered, that was obvious. Upon hearing a soft but rapid beeping Hudson clutched his head and cursed again, this time Vasquez did not catch it.

"You see a way in, Kid? Companies coming and after the ass kicking and the leaving present I don't think we wannabe here, yo."

Vasquez watched the kid, not by a muscle did she betray what was on her mind. The same placid expression adorned her pixie features but she could tell from the eyes that she was focused. Focus was what they needed as they sure as shit could not out run whatever had Hudson excited and they did not have a hope in hell of being the Calvary and offering some friendly assistance down below.

"The left. Not many of them. Take their weapons. Straight through."

Vasquez craned her head and looked where the kid had pointed out and sure as shit she could just make out a few hazy shapes. If she had not of had them pointed out she would not of seen them. Sneaky sumbitches. Grinning wolfishly she slapped out at Hudson, eyes bright and pulled Johner closer.

"To the left, three maybe four. Hard and fast and easy money, take what they are attempting to fry our asses with and get to the ship. Somehow automate take off proceed and get our asses the fuck outta this particular kitchen. Amigas, ready?"

"This is a bad idea, man. We ain't got shit to throw at these mother fuckers.. and I ain't risking my asshole. Fuck that, bitch.."

Johner folded his arms and then with eyes wide backed up as the kid reached for him. He heard a whirring sound and before he hit the deck saw some spiked object with his name in it slam into the wall where his head had been parked. Eyes rolling with anger, Johner picked up the first thing he could lay his hands on and spinning hefted in the direction where that spinning piece of shit had come from. Hearing a cross between a dog growling and something else he couldn't name he grinned and offered the finger salute.

"Stop clowning man, they up our asses enough!"

Johner ignored Hudson and kept throwing the odd sizable piece of junk metal or rock that managed to find their way into his paw. It was only a second later when he made a strangled sound that was so un-Johner like in timbre and quality that both Vasquez and Chase spun around to see what had him so upset. The things. The things were pounding pavement behind them and Johner was past them both before the order could be given. Following, almost gazelle like in her approach to the sliding dirty the kid hoped from parapet to dirt and back to parapet before heading up their almost suicidal charge into the backs of three of the hulking menaces.

Vasquez, if she would have had the time would of praised the kid for her hand to hand, and nothing could take away the pleasure at seeing a human hand snaking round the throat of one of the hulking brutes quickly slamming it down the ground, clearing a way through the trio while they ran at top speed. Within seconds Hudson and her had cleared the make shift barricade of supply boxes and other random cargo that was slowly being blasted to bits and slapped palms with Hicks. Crinkling her nose she could smell that the waiflike civilian fighter that went by the name of Riggs had pissed himself. Picking up his fallen weapon and a few clicks later she was spinning and laying down fire in a rain formation on the alien group that was firing on them.

Chase had cleared the boxes before the others and had half vaulted herself in a few flips to Ripley's side. She felt her mother suddenly drag her down and marvelled at the fact that her mother had felt the blast, not merely saw it. She hadn't noticed that one of the aliens had fired in her direction. Slanting her gaze under her mother's arm she saw Call blasting a plasma rifle the way that they had come.

The Yautja horde descended upon the Betty with out mercy; soon all that was left of the once pristine wings, wings and alloy body were smoking charred holes. Their powerful plasma casters had already taken out three of those they hunted; their orders were recovery but if that was impossible then they would preserve themselves.

Eight of the oomans were left.

They had dug themselves in amongst the charred remains of their spaceship which gave the hunters a tactical advantage, the oomans were completely cut off.

.

Great.

FUCK.

Angrily Hudson pounded his boots and then his fists into the weirdo prison cell that him and the others had been bundled into. Fucking aliens and their fucked up shit, man. It wasn't enough that the Betty was fucked, most of the newbie civvies were also fucked and DEAD and they were all nursing their own particular hurts. There had been the firefight, then the lines had broken and hell arrived. An explosion and then some kinda nerve gas was thrown and then they were caught in the crossfire escaping.

From the moment that Hudson's feet touched the ground in that suicidal charge he knew without a doubt that some bad shit was going down. His throat had caught when the Betty's engines were targeted and shot to shit. If he hadn't of stopped it a whimper would of escaped from his throat when the auto turrets went next and the whatever the fuck they were started to swarm them. The sight of seeing one of the new civvies being picked up, hefted and then slung as easily as he would do to a sandbag was unnerving as fuck. The way they seemingly worked as a unit, like him, Vasquez and Hicks did with the others back in the day made it obvious that even with unlimited ammo there goose was most certainly cooked.

Somehow the things had turned into gymnasts, vaulting, leaping around the place like something of their size and bulk should not be able to accomplish. Within minutes Johner, him and Hicks were on their asses. Vriess was disabled. Call and Ripley were surrounded and being made to move and the kid and Vasquez were having none of it and were busy fighting tooth and nail despite Ripley and Call foaming at the mouth and screaming at them to not resist. It gave him a little bit of woo hoo knowing that they both managed to get rid of some of whatever the hell they managed to piss off before one of them damn near broke the weird spear thing over the kids head; repeatedly and almost impaled the same item in Vasquez for their trouble.

Hudson shuddered at the memory of the sickening cracks and crunches that both of them had taken. The punishment was so… Hell he couldn't even describe the wrongness. The kid was one thing; he knew that she could take a beating, get knocked around and then get up and stuff whoever did it up someone else's ass. The things had really gone to town but in a way he guessed that it had to in order for them to survive. Knocking off his futile but stress believing tactic of attempting to knock a hole in the wall Hudson took a look at all that was left of the group.

Call and Ripley were with the kid who still hadn't woken up. Grimacing as he saw the already blue and purple skin heralding the onset of mass bruising and helpfully the worst of the cosmetic wounds and slashing had already started to knit together and guessed that what had them both worried was the injuries that they couldn't see. Stopping his mindless pacing he turned and looked at Hicks who was gingerly tending to Vasquez.

The small latino like the kid had a range of wounds. A waspish looking cut adorned her brow and her face was blood stained and dirty. Blood at some point had oozed freely where she had almost been run through. Johner was now sat with Vriess with his head in his giant mitts. Resisting to urge to go back to pacing Hudson strode toward them both and slid down the wall.

Jesus H Christ.

Elder Jo'ein surveyed the holding cell where the troublesome oomans were residing. Six of his blooded warriors were dead; having followed the way of the warrior they had died a good death. A large handful of his blooded might as well be living in the infirmary. His own sons, his sons who he had trained for every eventuality had not escaped without injury. His eldest H'tch, his mightiest that was first amongst his hunters was nursing wounds from oomans meagre weaponry. His youngest Di'Sha looked as through he had been dropped into a fighting pit unarmed.

He had been surprised at Di'Sha's injuries and at the story he had been told. Looking through the holding glass his gaze rested on the small bundle being cradled by a tall ooman female and tended to by others. It was obviously its mother, and like a good parent it had fought tooth and nail when cornered. It like it's young was surprising. The mother had turned almost feral when its young had been contained.

Clicking a mandible in thought the big yautja could not fathom how his warriors had taken such a beating. It was similar to walking into a hive, both mandibles turned up in a greeting while proceeding to obliterate the egg chamber and then attempting to get walk out. Narrowing his yellow brown eyes he looked back to the almost touching scene. Considering the size of it, the youngling should have not been able to tangle with a yautja warrior, let alone inflict damage like it had. None of the oomans should have been able to best any of his kind. His eyes hooded as he brooded over the footage that was recorded during both recon and capture. Things most definitely were not right..

Flicking a few of his greying dreadlocks over an impressively muscled shoulder he looked over the other captives. Eight had survived their final assault. One, an older male was sat in some kind of conveyance. Two of the other males were pacing while one was assisting another female with an impressive slash wound that should of rendered her incapable of movement. This particular female had managed to fling some foul ooman weapon at the group headed by him, the resulting explosion killing two of his best instantly and half killing another. The other female was tending the youngling with the larger ooman female, obviously an alpha in cooing to it.

For oomans, they had performed exemplary. In their drive for victory they should have been born yautja. A low cry had him chittering in sympathy for the feral youngling that was obviously being poked and prodded. H'tch had worked it over very badly. The little ooman did not give his son much choice and H'tch would bear the scars of their combat. H'tch had broken his bakuub spear over the females head when it had blindly charged him, obviously in temper. When it had gotten to its feet again, it had tried to assist its mother who had been contained. Another blow to the head and it had succumbed to oblivion. With the more elite of the groups' fighters gone, the rest fell easily.

Five of the oomans had been killed; their skulls he had not allowed to be taken. Over zealousness or necessity Jo'ein did not care to contemplate. There were enough left to interrogate. Pressing a button on his arm guards he contacted the ships medic. Moment later, a trilled greeting implied he had been connected.

"Zion, The universal communicators are ready?"

Jo'ein barked his question. He was impatient. He wanted answers as to why the oomans would descend on a backwater planet and obviously engage the hard meats. There were tales of hard meats descending on oomans, and none of them ended in happily ever after. There was only one species that had the balls to take on the hard meat prey and that was the Yautja, the mightiest of warriors and the supreme hunter elite. A moment later and the medical officer strode into the viewing port clutching small transmitters.

It was necessary to sometimes communicate with other life forms; the yautja weren't stupid they were merely select as to what they chose to reveal themselves to. Oomans were not usually on the list. Jo'ein nodded cordially to Zion and grasped his shoulder in thanks. A sudden commotion in the holding cells perked the medic's attention. The oomans were attempting to hold the feisty small female down to the floor.

"…Chase..? Wake up sweetheart.."

"..Ripley, wake her up. She can't go to sleep.. Johner…convulsions! Need…blunt instrument.. pressure...head.."

Zion, twitched his mandibles. The oomans were obviously having trouble healing one of their own. Typical of their species, he thought to himself, easy for them to get into trouble and for them to meet Cetanu. Unless he asked his leader if he could heal the youngling, it would probably die. He could tell from the scene that was happening it had sustained a head injury of some kind and needed to be heavily sedated until the swelling stopped. It probably had internal bleeding along its puny brain also. Releasing an annoyed grunt he turned to Jo'ein.

"Elder, the oomans have not the brains to heal one of their own. It may assist in your endeavours if this one is healed. Make them more wiling. They are like cattle, kindness and they follow you anywhere."

Jo'ein nodded thoughtfully. The tall female was obviously their leader and he had seen how it fawned over its young. If Zion was right and it made them more congenial what was wrong with the old fart healing a tiny ooman. It would be guarded and restrained obviously. He grunted and nodded, showing his agreement. Calling for his own personal bodyguards to flank him he stepped into the holding cell, part of him pleased when the occupants all seemed to shrink into themselves.

"Take the young female to the medical lab and take the other small female with you. Guard them at all times, doors to be locked. Restrain only."

Jo'ein gestured as he spoke aware that all his prisoners heard were clicks, thrills and grunts. As expected his eyes brightened when the alpha female stood in a flourish, instantly taking offence when her young was approached. It was then that he decided to allow small liberties. He spoke in their language.

"Young. Hurt. Fix. Soon."

"Holy.. Did that thing just speak English?"

Ignoring a now seemingly awake pack of oomans, he spun round after delivering as much as he was going to in their primitive earth speak, individually calling off his guards, not expecting a scuffle. Rounding on his prisoners with a particular angry growl that sent damned near all of bodyguards to their knees in deference he spied the cause. So, the other small adult ooman was the cause was it? Striding towards the surrounded group he barked another growl, sending his men from their knees in a flourish training their shoulder canons.

Call stood her ground. No alien was going to push her or any of those she choose to protect around. Slitting her eyes and letting her mouth fall into an unforgiving line she again pushed at the nearest guard that was attempting to scoop up Chase.

"I said back off! Got cloth ears, pal?"

Grunting with the effort she again managed to push another back while systematically attempting to keep Ripley and herself from being blasted by the very powerful weaponry. Eyeing what was obviously the head dick in charge and noting how angry he appeared at being detained. The guttural choking sounds and the bird like trilling was obviously their language; cocking her head at the unfamiliar sounds Call narrowed her eyes wishing that she knew what was going on. It appeared that the leader was coming to a decision.

Looking over her shoulder at Ripley she wasn't quick enough in her reflexes when she was uncouthly yanked out of the way and then flung. Having been spun, dragged and then flicked away like a bit of paper and having managed to come to her feet Call saw Ripley start to charge and then come to a stop, eyes wide in her pale face. A moment passed before she fell to her knees, crumpling in upon herself. Calling out to the others when they came to their feet Call made herself clear. Move and we will probably end dead.

"Stay cool.. Is Ripley breathing?"

"Yeah man. Shallow but pulse is there. Must of knocked her out with this."

Craning her neck attempting to look at what Hicks was waving which was damned near impossible with the hulking and uglies standing in front of her blocking the way. Sighing in frustration she wiped at her face. Why she had to be made with realistic human bodily functions she would never understand. She hated sweating. The sensation was disgusting. Keeping her voice steady, as it appeared their hosts became excited when they were raised.

"We'll go along with what they want for now, ok? Just stay cool see what they…"

Call did not get to finish her sentence as one of those dear hulking uglies un ceremoniously grabbed her by the scruff and yanked her so hard that she was forced to follow in order to stay on her feet. Hearing the angry voices of her shipmates she did something she never ever did before. She prayed.

Call had been half dragged by one of whatever the fuck they were for long enough, had seen her little Chase be tossed like a sack of potatoes for long enough as well. Wrenching her arm from left to right she began to struggle, but even her motorised strength didn't seem to phase the things. She was unceremoniously dumped and landed hard against the grilled metal floor. Looking up, an un-armoured son of a bitch was hovering over the child. Call saw red. Fury at the sight of Chase, lying there with faint trickles of blood from what were horrendous wounds before her alien healing kicked in and then at the sight of her small form being pawed at was suddenly released.

"Get your hands off of her, you fucking sadist!"

Call stood there, her fists clenched, not caring that she was outnumbered. The unfamiliar birdlike calls and growls were obviously their language but she did not have the knowledge to understand it. Her mouth set with a grim line Call approached the table unchallenged. The thing was still running its hands over the kid despite her warnings. Looking around she worked out where she was. It was some kind of alien medical room.

There were instruments everywhere, housed in metal casings and pots adorned every surface, screens obviously showing life signs hung here and there also. Where they going to help? What the fuck did they want for doing so? They had gone through an awful lot of trouble to capture them, despite them killing some of the crew, but they had spared the rest. Looking down at a small lifeless hand that was usually grabbing at things that she was working on she felt worry. Why do they care what happens to you? Do they know… about you and Ripley, the government's involvement with the aliens?

A low clutter followed by a metallic hum had her looking curiously at the large alien. He obviously knew what he was doing and looking around it was further more obvious he had been tending injuries since they had been taken aboard. Her robotic senses told her hours ago that they had left the planet and instead or orbiting were travelling through space. Where were they going? Why were they going? Were the two continuous questions flittering about in her matrix.

Why.

Holding a small hand between hers, if she could have she would of paled at the feeling of dropping temperature she was picking up. A simulated event happened. Something caught in her throat. The kid was not all right, she didn't think a couple of bandages and she would be slinking around the ship again was going to cut it. This guy… did he know what the fuck he was doing?

Zion watched with frustration when the strange smelling female marched towards him and questioned him. He understood what she asked and was puzzled. It was obvious that the small female that he was healing was not a genetic relative; their scents were very different. This female obviously worked with machines and technology. She had the expression for it. Zion found haughty females an annoyance and never took pleasure in being sought out by one at a clan gathering or on home world.

He had not the patience to butter them up for a quick rut or the inclination to purr poems at them. He noted that whatever the females shared must be strong when the mouthy one picked up the smaller hand. His examination lead him to an easy conclusion, if albeit a puzzling one. Its surface wounds were already knitting if not already knitted, there were various traumas on its surface skin but they would heal and now it was sedated the swelling in its brain would be healed in a matter of moments. Ooman physiology was similar to their own, he mused, half with morbid fascination the other clinical fortitude.

The main hatchway opened behind him, clicking angrily that he did not have the time or the inclination to treat anyone else at this moment he swung round with a roar, which he quickly swallowed. The elder's mightiest progeny stood in the doorway. Zion regarded H'tch with a baleful eye. Now he had another distraction in his work place.

"You may not enter son of Jo'ein. I am working on a patient and as you can see I have my hands full with more than one ooman at present. Come back later if you have already made a mockery of my healing skill."

H'tch ignored the healer; more intent on the being that was laid out on the examination table. He noted that another small female moved in an agitated fashion at his appearance. That one had been there when he had blocked his brother from taking the fallen young females skull. H'tch flared his mandibles when the female made to block his sight. He had unfinished business with the little female that appeared to be comfortably unconscious by his hand. He stepped forward and looked down at the table.

"The ooman will survive, Healer Zion?"

Chittered laughter followed by a collection of snorts had the conscious female dancing with alarm.

"Yes it will live. She will wake soon. I hear the oomans gave you warrior elite something special. They, according to Larvix'na fight like the bogey men."

Pausing beside his perfectly ordered pain blockers, syringe in hand the healer half paused. Why was H'tch here? He had set his arm, wrapped his ribs and taken care of the burns to his hands. Returning to the tablet and ignoring the silly oomans gasp when he went to slide the needle into his newest patient he then turned to gaze at the readings. Seeing and immediate improvement he removed the needle and blinked.

What the pauk..?

The needle was half gone. Looking down at the small puncture wound he wondered if he had been over rough in the insertion but seeing no more that faint spots of blood he realised that he could not of broken the tip, it would be protruding and he most certainly would of heard the snap. Zion looked at the female who was seemingly gazing at him and then gazing at the remaining needlepoint. Noting that she looked nervous all of a sudden but also remembering the elder's son was still hovering kept his mandibles shut. Flicking the switch on his translator unit and attaching it to his neck, near his vocal chords the aged healer fixed the female with a stern look.

"Patient. Healing. Must not… be running?"

Call blinked when a gravely voice started speaking in English. Eyeing the almost invisible box that had half embedded itself into greying flesh on its neck. A translator. Nodding her head, she discovered she wanted to thank whatever it was.

"Thank you. From me and her mother."

Call continued to chatter every now and again, noting that while the healer answered in the broken gravely English the big one by the door had yet to say anything. She was about to initiate conversation, as it was obvious that they all could when she felt it. Looking down at her joined hands she felt it again, the sensation of slender fingers wiggling. A smile coming to her face Call rested a hand on top of the kid's head, happy.

Chase lazily took a deep breath and instantly caught a whiff of the flowery scent that she associated with Call. There was no scent of Mother or any of the others but there was that sweet stench again. She felt like she was floating in a sea of the stuff that Call used to feed her before being banished to a secure corner in her mothers room. What was it called? Warm milk? She was lying on something hard, that told her that she was no where familiar as she would not fall asleep on something uncomfortable; not that she did not enjoy spending time hiding and pouncing on Johner or Vriess from an air vent or stair railing when the inclination struck.

She moved and she wished she hadn't. Before she could stop herself, a low groan went galloping out of her mouth. She felt a hand, and instantly realised that she was right – Call was here. Another cool hand attached itself to her brow, it didn't feel or smell like Call or anyone that she knew and thus she swotted at it, causing another pitiful sound to come out unbidden. A chittery choppy sound was uttered to her left. Groaning again she opened her eyes and blinked.

It took a while for her vision to clear and when they did her eyes flew open with shock. There was a thing by her head!

"Errrmf…!"

Sitting upright did nothing for her mood. The instant she was at a 90degree angle a symphony of pain shot up and down every single nerve ending, danced along her brain, whirled around and bit and then went off back below only to start again. She felt someone familiar this time touch her forehead and she unscrewed her eyes. Call.

"Chasey…Chase? Can you hear me? Jesus you gave us quite the scare."

Chase gave her a watery smile and noted how the small act made Calls eyes shine brighter and how she suddenly became easier. Hmm, the more she wiggled and moved the easier the pain and the strange heavy sensation went away. Blinking her green eyes and flexing her hands and toes she took another deep sniff of the air and stared at the thing.. No things that were stood near the table. Call did not seemed overly stressed out and there was not a trace of any of the others blood on the air. What the fuck did they want? Hmm.. Fuck. I must have picked that up from Hudson. Shaking herself, Chase kept her eyes on them staring at them right back.

"Not broken, Call."

"Yeah Kiddo, not broken. Now, no sudden movements, you were beat up courtesy of Mr. Asshole over there quite badly, Chase.. Are you listening to me? CHASE! Are you all right? Jesus! Don't do that to me, Kid. When they put us back going to have a hard enough time talking to Ripley."

Chase had not been listening to her. Having leant away from Calls probing on her head, she had subsequently lost her balance and falling with a cat like 'yeow' to the floor below, had Call running round the table to her side.

"No prod. No prodding!"

Coming shakily to her feet and ignoring Calls jabbering, Chase felt out her body, noting the odd tender bunch of nerves. It mostly only hurt on her head; there was the odd twinge of muscles but nothing that wouldn't be gone in a few more hours. Call by this time had stepped closer and was yabbering about something about bruising… and having a lump the size of earth… again Calls fingers sought her head.

Hissing, baring her fangs and half leaping out of range she did not realise where she leapt to until she almost sneezed from the smell. Shaking her head to clear her nose she looked up and blinked at the yellow gaze staring back.

H'tch was impressed that the small female would be healed so soon. He suspected it was something in her blood that made her so for no ooman that had not been tampered with on the genetic level could have the ability, the stamina that she had. Yes, there was something niggling in his brain. Her blood… was different. He had hunted oomans before the clan had imposed a ban on ooman trophies and their blood was never corrosive; her blood and that of her mother was corrosive, not unlike that of hard meats.

Unless hard meats had suddenly started to mate with other species instead of infecting them it was something that did not even have to be thought of. Of course his race had tampered with their own genetic material thousands of years ago – making them a more efficient and superior species, which was why this collection of oomans were unlike anything, his kind had ever seen.

He had watched the healer work and ignored his jibes. Yes, he had taken his arm out of the netted sling. He did not need to be hampered by such a device and he could take the pain of the healing dislocation. The jibes had been easy to ignore. The old fart was full of piss and wind and today would be no different. He would move onto one of the resting young bloods that were filling his precious infirmary. Yes; it had to be genetic tampering that made these oomans different. Casting a critical eye over the slumbering female H'tch noted that 90% of them had knitted and had ceased to bleed earlier.

He was also further amused when the said ooman female started to recover consciousness in his presence. Part of him wanted to see what it would do waking up surrounded by him and other guards. Would it hiss and spit again? Attack him with the same fever it had used with Di'Sha and then later him and his comrades? That part of him was curious but for now he was amused at the scene of the other female prodding and lavishing affection, so much so causing the feral little thing to lose its balance and fall off the table.

He was further amused when the female, no he would call her by name, 'Chase' again moved from probing fingers and moved into his personal space. He clicked, the sound a low chuckle when she cocked her head at the sight of his face and then when her head fell back and the ooman female looked him in the face. The other female called out to her, but H'tch was pleased when she did not answer.

"Brave little knife…"

He spread his mandibles in what was the equivalent of a yautja smile when the little female cocked her head at the sound. H'tch raised a hand to his chest and fisted it, tapping against his armour gently.

"H'tch."

He said it again, tapping his chest and then slowly reached out causing her to come to her feet and skittering away. He started to purr, low and deep in his chest when she looked as if she would move away.

"H'tch…"

He watched the way the oomans eyes would stay on its hand and it moved toward her and how her body would slowly slink back as it approached, expect this time she raised her own hand to her head and covered the mottled bruise adorning her temple, and her eyes darkened. H'tch knew instantly to be on guard; this little female was angry. Chittering, he saw that his laughter only made her eyes darken further and bare her teeth. Looking over her head and staring at the other female as she came closer he said his name again, tapping his chest.

"Chasey, come here. It's trying to communicate, no killing the communicating alien.."

H'tch growled as the healer folded his arms and mumbled something about having 'good luck' and 'hard up young males' under his breath. He, H'tch was interested in the pack of oomans because of their skill, their strength, not because he fancied a quick rumble in the bed sheets with them. Eyeing the smaller of the females wrapping an arm round the shoulders of the almost rabid one that still looked as if it wanted a few more rounds with him and a bakuub.

His translation device was working perfectly; No killing the communicating alien, indeed. If it wasn't the truth he would of found it funny.

"Not going to kill.. Straight away."

Ha! This young female was most amusing. Listening with pleasure to the other female outlining how it would be a bad idea as the others were still being held, he saw the fire start to leave the eyes of the one that was called two similar sounding names but not completely douse itself. The other female notched her chin and bravely stepped forward, pointing at herself.

"Call. Annalee Call and you are 'Heeech'?"

Call squinted as it lifted its tusk like appendages on its face, again making something between a sound being swallowed and a click. Trying again to emulate the swallowing sound, she smiled when the alien nodded its approval. Looking over to the kid, she noticed she still looked as if she was standing toe to toe with a bug. Clearing her throat with disapproval and again at the blank look and silence it became obvious that Chase did not want to place nice.

"Hey, kiddo. No pissing off the bigger alien when we are on his ship, hurtling through space to fuck knows where… Say hi. Don't make me ask twice."

H'tch heard the snort and admired the haughty way the little ooman lifted her face to air and made to turn her back, if she had been another yautja he would of wiped the look of her face but as she wasn't he was not inclined to discipline her. It looked as if the smallest of the room was happily admonishing her own brand of discipline. The translator happily told him everything that was being said – threats about "Telling your mom." And "No picking up wireless cable or forays ever again" reminded him of his childhood. Was the little female that young, then? H'tch frowned. It was dishonourable to inflict damage upon a real youngling.

"Her Tch."

"See that wasn't so bad. Work with me here. We play nice and maybe they will to. Better yet maybe they will let us go back to where the others are. You probably wanna see Ripley, right?"

H'tch noted that the youngling stopped staring daggers at him at the mention of the word "Ripley". This "Ripley" must be important. Clicking a mandible and turning he made a come hither motion.

"Come."


	5. Job Seekers 'R' Us

As always here's to Jack, Jose, Jim and Johnnie – my four favorite men.

Wake up.

Swimming through the hazy ocean of her mind the sudden intrusion of rational thought was an annoyance. Wake up, indeed. No. She was far more happy hanging here.. no battles to fight. No daily struggle. No internal battles for her here. Here it was peaceful. Quiet. Perfection.

Wake UP.

Up. WAKE. Must wake up.

Mentally recoiling from a voice that sounded much like her own the mind Ripley curled in on herself, intent on ignoring her own voice that was compelling her to wake from her slumber. Resisting again the mind Ripley snuggled into the misty haze that surrounded her. She was warm and safe, curled around the others.. Safe guarding the hi..

Wait a moment.. Other warm slippery bodies.. The smell… she was happy safeguarding the hive? What the..? No she was Ripley. Ellen Ripley. Warrant Officer Ellen Ripley Ident Number W5645022460H. Snapping to attention and almost braining Hudson who was at that moment shinning a pocket torch in her eyes Ripley shot upwards, her back arched like a hissing cat at a passing canine. Ignoring Hudson who was now jabbering frantically to the others that made up her crew Ripley breathed deep, taking pleasure in the feel of air albeit cold air in through her nose, deep into her lungs.

"Jesus H Christ, man. Almost took my fuckin' head off, man."

Hudson paused to rub the side of his neck almost sheepishly. Eyeing Vasquez as she clambered to her feet with the aid of Hicks and was half lifted and half limped her way towards him and Ripley. Vriess's chair had been taken away when it became apparent that it wasn't just used as a method of conveyance. Not that they'd had a choice but they could have used what Vriess considered hidden gems about now. Jack, John or Jim. It didn't matter.

"Where are Chase and Call?"

"They zipped you out cold, man. Rounded up the kid and Call and they were gone. The big one was on about taking her to a med lab or somethin' but who the hell knows, man. Shit. This is just like LV426. Fucked before we even start."

Leaning back and resting his weight against his heels Hudson slumped down. The whole getting your ass fragged, going back for more and then getting it re handed to you was old. Been there, done that. Bought the fuckin' shirt. He didn't like it 300 years ago and still didn't now. Noticing he had lost his audience Hudson slid a glance at Ripley and felt his jaw drop and his eyes take on a cartoon appearance as she started to do what he had done a few hours ago, but she had more effect. Hell, even Johner was suddenly awake at the sound of the merciless pounding thuds and rhythmic grunts.

It became obvious that Ripley even with her hybrid strength wouldn't be getting through anytime soon but for the love of god the noise would sure and shit be annoying the hell out of the things that put them there. Striding to Vasquez and slinging his arm under hers and half hefting her to his left he grinned and waited. He wasn't one of the most annoying assholes he knew for nothing. Silently counting off numbers in his head he and the other waited. Johner leaning against the wall muttering curses under his breath, Hicks stood over a seemingly relaxing Vriess.

Twenty seven..

Twenty eight..

A few more minutes of the symphony ala Ripley and that door will open. Pasting the cross between 'Hi Honey, I'm home' and his famous shit-eating grin on his boyish features he pulled the single salute in readiness. Grinning even more he could of whooped and hollered as in walked Call and the kid. It wasn't like he breathed easier or nothing, he told himself sucking it up but he could relax knowing that their numbers hadn't lost another two..

She glared at the mottled muscular back in front of her. Call had wrapped an arm around her torso when it looked like she had started to totter unsteadily. Whatever the things were it seemed that they had her number – and they could take count. Having never before encountered something that could inflict damage like what she could and drones did not count; she was pissed more than anything else and a little bit curious.

The curiosity ride would wait until the pissed off ride had gone loop de loop first. Feeling the arm of her almost auntie Chase had almost wanted to tear it away but knowing that Call did not need to have anger vented on her made her refrain. So instead she chose to ignore and glare. Not that she was childish mind.

If the thing that had introduced itself as Hee tch was aware of her pissed off stares and fractionally narrowing eyes he didn't once offer reproof like what Johner or Hicks would of done if they had caught her eye balling them. After coming to conclusion that he was both blind and stupidly dumb, Chase eased up on her silent glaring. She gathered from Calls conversation earlier that they were on a ship – a thing ship – and she had been hurt. Well, duh.

She had been happily about to finish off what she started with the smaller version of big, dumb and stupid earlier when she had been almost grabbed by the scruff of the neck, hoisted and then flung out of the way. Taking the hint she had come to the aid of her mother. Again just when she would have swiped and lifted one of the things heads off she was yet again stopped. Mister Big, tall, stinky and stupid. If it wouldn't freak out the others she was sure she would bare her teeth at him. A distinctly drone like thing to do.

Looking down and taking in the metal grating and then above her, registering the solid walls and then to each side and finding the same she wondered why the things had done whatever it was they had done to her. She wasn't a simpleton or stuck in childhood like some of the others thought – she acted on a full adult capacity, mostly. The ship was strange. It smelled funny. It looked weird. It was full of the things, their odd musky scent was every where, so much so she probably couldn't stick her nose in the air, take a few breaths and find out where the others where.

Deciding to give it a whirl anyway; who knew where the thing they were following was taking them and promptly sneezed. And then promptly sneezed again.

"Sweetie?"

Call eyed the thing that was named H'tch when the kid had started to sneeze almost violently. Mr whatever the fuck it was had stopped its authoritative march and had whirled around almost shocked. Call hoped he wasn't shocked that the kid had maybe just sprayed him with bogeys or something. She could of jumped out of her skin; albeit synthetic when another loud sneeze ripped through the semi silence.

"..Damn.. It..."

Calls eyes flew open wide as it became apparent that Chase was talking – actually talking a lot and despite the fact that the language was something straight of the book of Hudson it was a novelty. That was until the H'tch person was stood directly in front of the kid and looking down at her with something akin to curiosity on.. well she guessed you would call them features? If tusks and mandibles could be called facial features.

Sliding a look to where the kid was now rubbing at her eyes and shaking her head, looking like a hunting dog trying to clear a snout full of anti mate. Call found herself staring. The things eyes were fixated on the still lowered head of the kid – gulping and then almost biting down so hard in a mix of shock and fear as Chase straightened up, reached out with a hand and pushed at the chest that was blocking her way and then took a step forward with her neck arched strangely, her eyes appearing to be shut and taking deep breaths.

Call was speechless – was the thing going to take offence to be shoved, even through it was kinda gently outta the way? Where they going to get vacuumed or something?

The strange almost cough like noise made him stop in his gait – the female had made it a few times in the medical bay and then seemed to of stopped. For it to start making the same noise meant that it was yet again sick? How frail and sickly these oomans were.. Turning to see if they did indeed need to turn around and go visit old Zion again H'tch's ear drums yet again were assaulted by that strange cough like noise.

The sudden feel of flesh, cool soft flesh upon his own had him shooting a surprised glance at the females seeming to dither in the middle of the main corridor. He was surprised at the texture of the hand and peered down, noting the difference in color and then wonderment at how soft and small it appeared against his own chest.

An unexpected sensation had him hooding his eyes when the ooman slid it towards his breast seeming to pause over his heart. Eons could have past when he looked down to find the youngling looking at him with a level stare. Her skin appeared white to his eyes then, little dots here and there scattered across her features. Her hair was loose in a coif that was alien to him; most females had either dreaded or braided hair of some kind – and it seemed to float and then coil.

The shade could not be pinpointed either it was a mix of gold, honey and then with strands the shade of his hide but it was the eyes that had him staring. The stare he had thought to be level earlier appeared to be infinite, as if there for a moment but with the promise of being gone the next time you looked. A low growley purr started when the quick shove that had been forceful enough to make him take a step back connected. Slanting his eyes at the transgressing female, he made to push back, Instinct demanding for him to make the unruly female submit only to find that the target of such was now no longer there.

Spinning so fast that he almost got a slap in the face from his own dreadlocks H'tch took a step after them but it became apparent that they no longer needed his help to find the rest of their clan. It, the female, he corrected himself had rapidly covered the remaining ground the holding cell and was almost goofily looking at the wall and began to blink with the dull pounding one of the occupants fist were making became more pronounced before it too, took a step back and slammed a fist against the door.

It did it once and as the noise reverberated, H'tch heard the stampeding approach of other Yautja coming their way. Raising a clenched fist, he signalled them to stop. He recognised his brother in the crowd, somehow able to move himself about the ship with a pronounced limp and similar to him, an arm out of action. He answered Di'Sha's dark look with one that was pitch and when a low growl was emitted he stood forward, his stance aggressive. The little knife was not to be harmed. Yet.

His ears cocked at a soft chitter and he found himself looking at the two females again. The Kid, Chase was making the soft noise, which increased until it sounded like high-pitched squeaks. He could not be sure but he was sure in some way that she was communicating with her mother, the other aggressive female. Walking forward until he was level with the ooman females and flicked a switch. A soft hum later and the doors opened.

Regarding the females beside him, he was startled at the emotion that was shown at their reunion. In a tangle of limbs, squealing and laughter both were accepted back into their clan with what H'tch thought, much too much fuss. It was not as if they been separated for a hundred cycles was it? It was obvious that even through the little knifed one was a warrior of her tribe she was also as he thought young and still appeared to be affectionate with her alphas.

A low trill announced his sire and falling to a knee, he greeted him.

He did not speak until his shoulder was grasped by hand. Subverting from his submissive posture he rose and continued to stare at the scene in the hold.

"Ah the troublesome female that sent my youngest son back to me cowed. Zion is fascinated with her biology. Not even a Yautja would be on its feet again so quickly after this particular battle and this fact has our healer stumped. Have you anything to report, my son?"

H'tch pondered. So, the old healer found this ooman fascinating, did he? Too bad he would not share his own personal findings. Let the healer rot. Keeping his eyes downcast, H'tch bowed his head and responded first with a grunt.

"These oomans were lucky, elder. They bleed easily enough."

"I doubt your sibling will agree with you. He has tales of thwei similar to hard meat prey and I have seen myself the surveillance from the reconnaissance as well as first hand viewing when we took their ship."

H'tch cursed his brother. Little suckling snot obviously was spoiling for a fight, for redemption of his 'honor' after being taken apart in front of the other unblooded. Biting back a stream of colourful but warranted curses he carefully considered his answer, not willing to incriminate himself with his venerable sire.

"They have proven that they can fight, father and they for some reason even through they are ooman, soft meat, that they hunt the Kainde Amedha. Were you not curious of this when we first found them or has my acclaimed father found threat in them where I have not? I will confirm that there was and probably are anomalies in a collection of the oomans but I see no cause for concern. But if you see it then I will stand by my elders wishes and immediately see that the threat is terminated and hung upon your wall.."

Elder Jo'ein waved a clawed hand announcing that this particular aspects of the conversation was over – yes he saw them as a threat but they, the yautja were many and they were on his cruiser, in the depths of space and their meagre ship was immobilised in the belly of the docks. Jo'ein recognised the look that H'tch sported; it was similar to his own when he was curious about something. Nodding thoughtfully he stepped forward and waited for the oomans to stop flapping their lips and silence themselves. It did not take long, he noticed.

As soon as he stepped in and H'tch followed him, the mother and offspring froze and then slid into a watchful stance, each appearing to wish to be in front of the other. One would move and then the other would mirror until the youngling was half picked up and half flung behind one he had heard be called 'Ripley'. The translator units would allow for the ooman language to be understood but there was the issue of being understood. Deciding to keep it as simple as he could, as they could be simplistic in their understanding, couldn't they, he spoke his guttural voice disrupting the heavy silence.

"You.. Hunt.. Hard Meat.. prey.."

It was a statement of fact and doubted that they would attempt a falsehood as what was the point. He would simply call them on it. What he was not expecting was the mass ooman speak that erupted. Was there no sense of structure in their clan? He would allow no subordinate to speak when he was! Staring at the trio of ooman males standing to the left of the alpha female, Jo'ein was surprised when the Alpha made no move to discipline them. Oomans..

"What the fuck is a 'Hard Meat' and why the **FUCK** is that thing talking English again? Is it me, man?"

"..Hard Meat.. "

"Great more Alien shit. If we didn't have enough!"

A female spoke out, seemingly angry about the males yelling. Throwing its arms in the air and whirling around it began to fist a hand but leave its middle digit erect, brandishing it in their directions while angrily retorting.

"THEY speak ENGLISH, assholes. Why don't you guys do us all a HUGE fucking favor and make like mimes, i.e., shut the fuck up. Want us to get vacuumed? Going the right way about it!"

Jo'ein and H'tch stood back and watched as a war with words erupted, the taller of the males coming forward and standing toe to toe with the irate female and mimicked the throwing of the arms. Clicking with astonishment, Elder Jo'ein talked out the side of his mouth to his son.

"Were they like this in the healing chamber?" Jo'ein twitched a mandible as his son shook his head. They, their jailers had been forgotten about in the face of a row between what could be a mated pair?

"Why you always busting my balls you robotic piece of shit? Told ya once that **I** am NOT the man with whom to fuck. Want proof, lemme borrow one of Vriess's wrenches and we'll go have a…"

Johner did not finish his sentence. Looking to the left and then down he saw the pixie face of the kid staring at him while yanking on his belt like she did when she wanted something when she was very little. Rolling his eyes Johner managed to bite out a much calmer sentence.

"What, KID. Little busy here… Oh.. Yeah.. Nice boo boo brat."

Chase kept her arm upright, pointing to the less raw cut that ran parallel along her arm, stopping at her elbow. Mentally counting down from ten, she saw the anger, leave Johner's face somewhat as he switched his attention from wanting to break Call into seeing what she pointed at. Picking up his beefy mitt in her hand and mindful of where her cuts and scrapes were, it would not do to burn his fingers and ran said digits over the planet that was growing on top of her head and then down to her shoulder where it had popped from its socket and then rather roughly been shoved back in.

Sliding Call a glance she continued to hold the big mans attention while Call or her mother answered the question that was posed to them.. Hard Meats? Why could they not speak 'real' talk? Stupid stinky things, just wait until there is a dark place and we will see who has the bigger boo boos.

Call could of kissed the kid. Turning to Ripley who was eyeing her child with a small smile, shrugged.

"Hard Meat. Prey. Any idea? They mean the UM's android army?"

"Is there anything like them recorded through out history.. They look like they have been alive and kicking a long time. Their ship, technology would elude to a civilisation as old as or even older as our own. Otherwise, lets go ask him."

Stepping forward the women kept a distance but were close enough to speak in low tones so as not to give Hudson another excuse to fire up again. Ripley folded her arms over her chest but kept her claws in sight and every so often would tap them against her pale skin.

"I do not understand."

The same gravely voice posed the question at them again, but this time with more than a hint of exasperation.

"Hunt. Hard Meat. Prey. Planet. Two days. Cleared?"

"Planet.. Cleared two days ago? He can't mean.. Ripley. We cleared that planet in the outer rings of aliens two days ago. Hard meats equate to bugs?"

Call rolled her eyes as Hudson was suddenly by her side. Never failed. Mention the word 'Alien' 'Xenomorph' or 'Bug' and he was in front, foaming and spitting like a rabid cat, claws outstretched. Stupid ass.

"Bugs? Whadda they mean Bugs? Hey guys. They got bugs. Maybe this is their idea of hiring us for a job…!"

Ever sardonic Hudson fixed the thing that had spoken with a cocky look and smirked when he saw a flash of anger flicker through its eyes. The mighty Bug Busters and their adventure with a never before seen alien race and how they saved them by kicking the shit out of some bugs.. yep had a nice ring to it. Mimicking Ripley's stance but not before he snapped his fingers at Johner and the kid and waved for Vasquez, Hicks and Vriess to step forward.

This was a team operation, damnit and eliminating bugs was a team effort. Besides Ripley was the leader, but she always gave the skivvy with the details. These bad asses had a bug problem? Them? This was too good! He spoke as if he was talking to a small child complete with vigorous nodding, knowing that he was being a major asshole but this was payback.

"You gotta BUG problem, man? Yeah? You give us dollar dollar and we help you long long time, yeah?"

"Hudson, they ain't Asian hookers, don't piss 'em off."

"Hey man, ain't like I going 'Sucky Sucky, love you long time' is it? Shit.. I doubt they even know what that shit means. Hey Rip, they got bugs, we should take 'em for whatever they got, and smoke those puppies, yo."

Vasquez rolled her eyes and reached out to cuff him. Hudson aka Mr motor mouth of the known universe and oh my sweet Jesus. Leaning heavily against Hicks, knowing that he was also supporting Vriess, she cursed her injured state. It had been a long time since she had been worked over like this. Well, whatever the fuck they were had helped the kid and were trying to communicate which was a million times better than what the last alien species she had encountered had tried to do.

Yep, she preferred this to being an incubator or swallowing a grenade in the arms of an asshole. Eyes drooping slowly, Vasquez wished that Hudson would just stop talking. Looking at the two aliens that had remained silent in front of them, even when Hudson was an asshole click, growl at each other Vasquez came to the conclusion that they were conferring. She hoped that all this was a misunderstanding and yeah, they had heard about their work or something and had come calling.

Stupid way to do it but it was a way of making friends, in their culture? The bug busters would not be ready to take out anything until they had slept, healed and re stocked. Stepping forward gingerly and trying to keep her limp and unpronounced as possible, Vasquez reached for her back left pocket and retrieved one of many photos that she kept by her ass, to remind said ass that it was to kick some whenever it was instructed to. Holding out the photo she waved it at the grey looking ugly, biting back a look of distaste when it mouth things spread slightly. They were worse to look at than the bugs – in a way. Stepping back and letting out a few choice curses at the niggling pain that continued to announce itself she ambled her way back to Hicks.

"Whaddya give them, man? Ain't any time for candid camera."

"I gave them a photo of me and the kid's first bug kill, asswipe. Fuck you think I was doing? Getting a date? Jesus."

Leaning on her once commanding officer and wishing that they had morphine Vasquez shot a look at the two aliens in front of them. If she wasn't wrong it appeared that they recognised the bug. As they took turns in looking at the photo she slid a look to Ripley and half shrugged.

"Looks like we got us another job, man. Yippie kai yay."


	6. Progression & Suggestion

Things progressed as things tend to do. After a few incidents which were by default sorted out by Call and Elder Jo'ein and H'tch the Bug Busters started to feel a little bit more at ease and began to settle in. They were given a large portion of the middle deck, a place usually reserved for the blooded warriors which later was cordoned off, rooms made bigger and smaller depending on what they were used for.

By the end of it they had an assortment of bunkrooms, a lounge and a large atrium, which was converted at Ripley and Vasquez's insistence into what human language called a gym. The only stipulation was a group bathroom and that the group had to make an appearance for meal times. Chase however always managed to find somewhere to disappear to.

If Ripley was bothered she did not let it show – after all she was the mistress of the poker face and since their hosts had not seen to question her child's disappearance neither did she.

Ripley prodded the seemingly alive substance adorning a large serving dish. Seemed everything they ate was some form of animal. Not that she minded. Meat, she could tear into, bite down on and shred. It gave the stoic woman an outlet. At least it wasn't recycled and vaporized. She remembered many fond times where she would of gladly nibbled on Johner rather than tuck into the military rations they had 'freed' upon their travels.

The liquid that the hosts seemed to down by the bucket load was a completely different matter. Not only did it smell like cats piss, it also tasted like it. Half alien hybrid she may be and have a somewhat metal disposition but her stomach was not.

Johner, Hudson and Hicks seemed to thrive in their new environment. Maybe it was that finally they had found a society that had encountered the aliens, kicked ass and come back for more or maybe it had something to do with how testosterone driven it was, but they were certainly making more 'friends' than what Vasquez, Call and her were making. If she did not know any better she would say that what was a total male orientated environment was half petrified of anything female.

Talking about females, it didn't appear that this ship had many to boast of. Those that weren't H'tch, Jo'ein and the healer Zion had been approached but always seemed to half shrink before doing that strange clicking and disappearing. If Ripley hadn't been amused, she would maybe thought about changing her deodorant. Speaking of smells.. Ripley gave Call a dour look as she came and sat, below her normal flowery smell there was a hint of her child. A quick glance told her all she needed to know – Call was ferrying food to and fro and probably assisting in the game of hide and seek that was going on.

"How long is this game going to continue. It would be better for all parties if you would stop what you are doing. When she is hungry she will eat and when I say eat, she will eat here with us and with them."

Call shrugged her shoulders and sighed. The kid had not even replied the times she had asked her to come and eat instead had stared past her with that very familiar distant look and hooked her arms round her knees. She hadn't yet tried to force her to come with her, leave the little nook she had found and eat more than a few bites of what she could successfully smuggle out and having this conversation with Ripley made her wonder what would happen if she did or if she let Ripley handle it.

After all while Ripley did have a sniff on what the kid did when it came to tracking she could quite easily sniff her out with probably little difficulty. Taking a deep breath, even through it was a fruitless and human thing to do she also cleared her throat.

"There are grills by the gym. Only you, her or I could move them."

Hunching forward Call pursed her lips and raised the semi curved serving tool that resembled chopsticks. The uglies had an eclectic assortment of foods – there were liquids, semi liquids, stuff that resembled meats, each with a variance of color and smell and then there was the jiggery shit that still appeared to move and breathe. If she weren't synthetic she would guess she would be plugging her nose about now. Selecting the lesser of the numerous evils and taking a bite Call snuck a look at Ripley who had continued her dark stare. There was a hint of a smile and the android wondered what caused this moment of hilarity..

The sight of Ripley's smile was a rare sight unless she was planning an attack. The smile, no matter how small was nine times out of ten due to some macabre scheme rather than human emotion. Watching carefully as Ripley pushed back the huge plate, still with that small smirk and with total alien grace wrapped a taloned hand round Hudson's neck and lifted him upright.

Her young wanted to test her will? Would skulk around under grills and in tight spaces where it was somewhat impossible to remove her from without a fight? Fine. She, Ripley would give her something that she would not and could not ignore or resist.

She ignored the bug eyed look and the furious mouthing that Hudson was now doing, she even ignored the feeling of his skin upon hers, something she had since becoming a hybrid had started to not like. Fixing him with a steely glare but not telling him to shut up as that would make this exercise lose its point.

Noting that the others were fixed watching her, either wondering what Hudson had done to provoke such a reaction or quite simply what the fuck was afoot. Yanking him gently and then turning him so he faced the large doors that were opened, knowing that the scent of Hudson's distress, his voice and the smell of his blood would carry quicker it if had a larger outlet, nicked his neck with her claws, drawing a few speckles.

His reaction was immediate. Letting out a pained but highly pissed off scream..

"..THE FUCK.. Hey BITCH what the FUCK?"

Upon feeling him struggle Ripley let him loose and stood back with her arms low slung on her hips. Ignoring Hudson who was now furiously posturing and still yelling she smiled. Yes, keep on with the noise. Closing her eyes and tilting her head she took a deep sniff. It was then that the small hairs over her body began to dance. Albeit a slow waltz but that would change in exactly ten… nine.. eight.. seven..

There you are. Ripley opened her eyes at the precise moment her senses went into overdrive, and on cue a little Spanish senorita was doing her thing up and down her body, complete with oles and casinettes. She gave it another ten before her young would trample her way through the small group

Vasquez suddenly snickered, having caught on. Twirling her chopsticks in her hand, the Latino sat back and grinned crooker than a hillbillies smile.

"The fuck you grinnin' at, man? Bitch almost dug my vocals out."

"One way of getting the kids attention. It isn't as if she hasn't come running to your aid before, esse. It was just your face, man. Like a bullfrog about to barf."

Hudson glared, rubbing his throat. "Shitty fucking way of getting her to come. Ain't Rip ever heard of whistles? Fetch or doggy treats? FUCK"

Johner whistled and took a long drag on his cigarette, his expression matching the 'whatever' that was adorning both Hicks and Vriess face but the look disappeared when a croaking growl suddenly sounded off from the entrance to the room. A split second later, the owner of the voice was silenced, if they had bother to strain in listening they could of perhaps heard the swift pattering of feet with preluded the arrival of the flaxen haired pixie face a percentage of them had been discussing. Ripley kept standing, neither caring that her stance spoke of threat or that her booted foot was idly tapping against the floor.

There was a faint chitter in her head and her eyebrows rose fractionally as the issuer sedately stampeded into the food hall that they shared with the big uglies, half skidding sideways into a halt. It had taken six months of careful study to catch an emotion on her young's face but it was always there. A hint of amusement was shown with a quirking twist of lips, annoyance was shown with a sudden flash of intensity in her eyes, danger and pissed off was shown by a rigid stance followed by another hard look.

Today she was sporting a few choice looks; obviously there was intent – the set of her shoulders, the bunching of her small but well formed musculature, protectiveness with the wideness of the eyes and the low-key frantic movements. Her personal favorite was dare she say it, was cute and it was the face of surprise. The expression where the brakes would suddenly slam on and the face would go blank before the eyes would widen dramatically and the head would slowly cock to either the left or right a degree or two.

Like she was doing now.

No one moved and there was silence except for the odd clicking that made up the big guys language. Even now and then one of them would do that strange trilling sound and emit the odd purr.

Ripley stepped forward in the usual gait that would have an army instructor envious and did not bother stopping until she was seriously invading the personal space bubble. Staring down at the mop of hair that seemed to duck lower and lower with every breath she took. She knew this move – through she was a hybrid like her, Chase had adapted her own arsenal of childish defences. Wiles if you will. The lower lip quiver, the puppy dog eyes and the shrinking act of where one acts as if they are shrinking away in an act to make another believe that they aren't really there. Setting her lips in a grim line Ripley reached out, snagging her fingers and claws in hair and catching her child by the scruff of the neck.

She let out a single hiss. While her hissing wasn't exactly like that of a reigning queen, Chase sometimes responded to it by either cringing like she was now, skulking away or merely stopping in what she was doing and approaching. Giving her a shake and then dragging her behind her Ripley approached her seat and dragged her daughter along with her.

Throwing what was left of her meal onto another plate and then sliding it to her left she turned her back with another low hiss. It was either this or force feed her and despite her adult intelligence, six out of ten times she had been bested in the art of evasion and she had no doubt that there would probably be a fight of wills. A soft chewing in her left ear made her smile. 1-0 to her.

"Do not be so wilful."

Reaching out to ruffle the hair above wide eyes whose mouth was occupied with a combination of chewing and slurping Ripley picked up what looked like a bread like substance and moved it onto the plate.

"You will come here with the others."

Ripley didn't get an answer and nor did she expect to and even through she knew that she would be obeyed, if grudgingly that there was a lot more to this latest show of disobedience than simply sharing space with their new friends. Of course she knew that there was the issue of being beaten senseless; it probably stung her young.

For one who traipsed about without being touched it was always a wake up call when they discovered that there was a bigger meaner fish. Catching the end of a dark look being levelled at where the head honchos sat, Ripley deduced that her little girl obviously felt like she had unfinished business with one or two of them.

For seven cycles the ooman group had arrived for feeding one member short both for the first feeding and then the second and had only fleetingly been glanced at. He supposed it was a good thing, as Di'Sha still spat when the oomans were mentioned in conversation and even through he did not say as much it was known that if there was an opportunity for either sparing or elimination he had put his name forward. It annoyed him, his brother's insistence that his honor had been taken away.

Through no one mentioned it in the sparing halls or anywhere else there were more than a few who were impressed by all of the oomans prowess, strength and durability. The other day the second smallest, a wispy little thing had been spotted bending struts and the like on their ship while the male in the small craft used what they referred to as a welder. Already the wispy female and the Alpha had shown them prime sites where the hard meat prey could be easily located and had also hinted that they wouldn't mind sharing. It was still strange to him that these oomans would hunt something that could easily tear them limb from limb if it was lucky enough.

Not that he thought that the ooman faction that was slowly being adopted into his clan would die without a fight.

The three ooman males Hicks, Hudson and Johner were already well liked by the young blooded and each side would regale the other with tall tales of hunts and fights, each new story more spectacular than the other. It was the females that gave him pause, or more importantly one in particular. He had seen her punished by her mother in the gathering hall, which resulted in her being present once a day and he had caught glimpses but unlike the other females she did not appear to be very social.

The woman known as Vasquez made an impression. She was a perfect example on how to expect the unexpected especially after knocking a random unblooded on his ass. What had happened was not well known due to both parties exaggeration or not, but the general gist was that both parties did something that the other did not appreciate. Said unblooded now refused to go anywhere near the ooman group. Period.

He turned and looked down into the third of seven holds, which was the one that held the craft that was referred to as 'The Betty'. The females and the obviously revered elder who had no functional legs there, including his father, a few guards and Zion and all were attempting to patch the ship into working order. There was the sound of loud voices accompanied by an obscene noise that passed for a beat coming from somewhere and every now and then a few voices were heard singing along.

This behaviour was obviously amusing his father who was now leaning against a metallic crate with supplies for the overhaul. He could hear the loud voice of the third among the females sounding off in a tone that he had not heard from her before. Tinged with.. what could only be thought of as _suggestion_.

"UH.. Push it… PUSH it good.. P-pp PUSH it **real** goooood.. Yeah that's it kiddo. Woooop!"

H'tch narrowed his eyes and lowered the platform and then widened just as quickly as he disembarked as fast as he could. He had never seen a female move with such.. He didn't even think there was a word for it. Each took turns copying movements and then adding some of their own. The small adult female would sink to her haunches and then simulate pelvic thrusting while spreading her thighs and then continue the rocking motion until she was upright again, and then youngest female copied, matching thrust for thrust before spinning and angling a caress down her chest with her back arched and hips rocking in what could only be described as a come hither motion.

The come hither was continued when she stopped her pelvic rocking and began to sidle towards his father and guards, a dainty arm extended and finger feigning reaching. And then there was the stare – the context of it hadn't changed but the emptiness of it combined with such a display was indescribably wanton and lascivious. Both of them despite the fact that they were ooman were prime examples of all that was female.

"Woah.. Very nice kiddo if only Hudson could see you now, man. Blow his load right here and now! .. Yeah YOU come gimme a kiss… uh uh PUSH it GOOD.."

H'tch raised a mandible and trilled lowly at the two guards stood behind his father and narrowed his eyes when they did not move quick enough, the set of their shoulders raged of disappointment. The on going display was not something that their own females often indulged in, except when enticing mates. The 'music' had ended and then changed, by Paya any louder and his ear drums were fit to burst but as distasteful as the sounds were the dancing was not and joining his sire, H'tch leaned with the same interest casualness that belied extreme interest.

And watch he did. Despite the affirmation that the female was indeed young there was nothing infantile or childish about the dance that she was doing nor was there censure from the others of her kind eluding to that fact that this behaviour was out of the ordinary which was surprising and yet not. How else could the explanation of such fast procreation be explained? A mandible twitched in amusement. Oomans were obviously a very sexual race. They had to be to spawn in the numbers that they had.

The unblooded that had been knocked about had been made to recount his tale – in showing his appreciation with a hard grope on the females posterior was rejected but according to the stories that the ooman males recounted such behaviour was usually the winning formula. Were oomans as picky as Yautja regarding a mate?

Glancing at his sire H'tch was further amused that he was practically salivating – what would his mother say if she found out that one of her first honored was drooling at the feet of soft meat prey?

It was a game that they played often and through sometimes it ended quicker than the others she enjoyed this one much more than helping with 'repairs'. She had been caged on this foul smelling ship for an eternity and her dreams, which were normally either void of full of blurry images were now full of open landscapes where she could run or thick forests where she would have to twist, twirl and flip around.

Chase did not know that she was suffering from cabin fever but Vasquez did hence why she had dragged the, at first reluctant teen, along with her this morning – practically attempting to remove the grills from her hidey-hole.

"We have an audience kiddo. Remember what your mom said."

At the kids blank look mid spin Vasquez decided to further the comment. "About playing nice, honey."

After receiving another blank look that was the norm Vasquez stifled a chuckle when the lift to the cargo dock activated bringing it a welcome site. Chase displayed little or no emotion most of the time but it was becoming apparent that she felt something akin to hate or at the least an intense disliking to the one who had knocked her on her ass upon their first meeting. She had been witness to the now numerous meetings and its attempt to be social and more amusing it seemed to take the kids stubbornness and indifference in its stride, content to carry on making overtures.

Keeping her smile on her lips she picked up the blowtorch and with a swift punch started to burn a plate into place. Keeping an eye on her young charge of course. The young charge who was still dancing like a stripper. At the congregated group of aliens that had come down to 'help' if needed.

Chase stifled a scowl.

'It' was back again.

Mentally rolling her eyes she finished the dance steps she had been mimicking and then started to stare like she always did in the hope that it would get bored and leave her alone. When her pack didn't want to be around one another or left alone they would vacate, which she had tried only to be followed or they would simply ignore whomever was attempting communication.

She had seen it done before.

Vasquez would ignore everything that Hicks or Johner would do and they would take the hint and leave her alone. Why did it not work? The kid didn't realise that what was socially acceptable in human groups wouldn't always be a sure fire way of communication in an extraterrestrial one. Turning slightly and fixing her gaze at the one that seemed to command respect like her mother did she was further befuddled when she saw it was laughing.

The elder whatever they were – she hadn't decided on a name yet apart from referring to them as 'big stupids' or 'Jerks' as Call referred to them – had clapped a hand on the object of her ire and done that funny choppy sound that she associated with laughter. Now it was doing that weird clicking thing and swallowed growling. Narrowing her eyes and frowning her brain supplied her with the emotion of anger. They found her 'funny'. Clamping her teeth together and surreptitiously balling her fingers fists to still them from shaking Chase glared at them.

Big stupid thing jerks! Lifting her lips away from her teeth was an instinctive move as was the hunching of the shoulders and cocking her head to the side.

She was pleased to note that when her stance changed from indifference that the things stopped their sounds of hilarity and other communication and were silently staring back at her. Sniffing quickly, she couldn't decide if there was a universal scent for fear but a nagging voice in the recesses of her mind whispered that if they were scared then they weren't scared enough and was gently prodding her into action – to wipe what appeared to be smirks off.. well whatever those moving tusk things were.

H'tch had laughed when his father had made a crack about the oomans ability to attract attention and the laughter and banter had progressed when it became apparent that the young female that he had sought out for another round of 'he would talk, and she would either walk away or growl or both while ignoring him'. His sire had left then, followed by his party. Staring back at the female who had stopped her dancing and was now stood stock still before he began to muse.

It had been the hand sliding across her almost non-existent mammary glands that had caught his attention – did ooman females not know what that act signified to a male? The invitation it preceded? Obviously not or the current angry reaction he hadn't seen in a while wouldn't be being displayed. It turned him on, seeing this little female's feathers ruffled. Her stance aggressive, teeth bared. Yautja males in their prime wanted a strong female, one who would give as good as they got and one who showed no fear of anything or anyone and H'tch had certainly found it.

If she had been born a yautja he would no doubt of had to batter and kill hundreds of suitors for mating rights, still might if this strange group of oomans were fully accepted into the clan. Despite her not having dreadlocks, scaly skin and being a little short she, including the other females were what was referred to as the mother lode. He was brought out of his admiration by the second beta female's voice.

"If you want to be thrown head first down the first bug hole that's found, no guns, no blades and no grenades just you with a pink ribbon you're going the right way about it kiddo. Ripley said no fighting – no spats. No harsh language; not that the scaly sumbitches will get them anyway but no, no and no."

Scowling again, Chase turned, her brows hunched and marring her normally pretty face.

"Good. Not afraid."

"Not afraid of a couple of hundred bugs? Yeah, sure kid. Even you would crap your pants at being faced with that."

"Watch. Next time wake the hive up. Not afraid."

Vasquez paused in her welding again and leaned back from behind the strut and eyed the pissed off teen. Haughty little bitch ass punk! Part alien bug or not, you'd have to be a million miles of sane to NOT feel fear of an alien hive. Pursing her lips, eyes narrowed and voice clipped Vasquez bellowed at the kid in retort.

"Don't gimme any lip or back to your hole. Why don't you use that can of spray paint and show your buddy how to play hopscotch or something.. I dunno kid, do ANYTHING except attempt to kill any of them… Geez.. I have about four to six hours work and fuck knows where the men are.. Go find them and annoy them for a while ok?"

Hopscotch? What the pauk was that? Eyeing the budding argument H'tch felt his amusement rise – especially when the elder female ordered that Chase was to 'do anything' and vacate the area. He had seen the childish stomp of a foot and pout and stepping easily to his full height and walked to the lift, cocking his head at her, splaying his mandibles in amusement when she took his invitation.

"Uh oh. Rip will have a fit if that ends badly you know Cherie."

Vriess had watched it all while fiddling with a fragment of the outer shell of the Betty's reactor. He was a man and he had seen the look on their new friends faces at Vasquez and then his little cher's antics. True, if he was in full working order then even his cock would have been rearing in his pants but as fate had been a bitch twelve years ago he had watched the scene with a fathers eye. Chase, despite being only a child in his, and everyone else's eyes had caught the attention of not one, but at least a handful of whatever the fuck they were.

One of them had a gleam in his eyes that he; himself had once sported in his youth. Recognising that it would only take a further little push, he had turned the music off and ignoring the dark look levelled on his from the Latino, carried on with the very bad work he was doing.

"What the fuck you talkin' about man? Better that she goes and gets a nap, and out from under foot. Not like we need her to bend or brake shit is it?"

Stifling a smile, Vriess continued tapping a few close together buttons with the slender end of his screwdriver and not looking up at the irritated glance he was receiving.

"Didn't you see who she left with? After all you told her to go play with him and who knows what they will get up to… hmmm? Your call."

"The fuck? She's gone for a…"

Vasquez shut her mouth on her escaping sentence with a click. Rolling her eyes with a softly uttered 'Oh SHIT' she threw down her blowtorch and without a goodbye headed for the lift cage and started punching buttons while fiddling almost frantically with her head comm.

"This is Vasquez, Docking level. We got problems…"

Chase didn't find the current situation funny. Breathing the same air as one of the hulking stupid jerks was not her idea of fun – but here she was; following the stupidest jerky thing of them all. She fought the urge to pounce and inflict as much damage as she could before sidling away and practising her innocent face. Not that it would matter, the Ripley would know it was her, from the wounds that were inflicted by teeth, claw and whatever else was ready to hand.

Sighing she wondered why she had stepped onto to the lifting device again. Vasquez's semi blasting probably had something to do with and she was seldom on the receiving end of so she presumed that it had been instinct to flee from an alpha, even if was an alpha in name only.

The big jerk still had its tusk things splayed and faintly curved in her direction. That alone gave her the will to reason that she should snap them, one by one until both pair were bloodied and unrecognisable. Growling softly and turning to the side she chose to stare at the repetitive black and grey metal that made up the internal structure of their ship. She'd be damned if she would share a favorite game with it that was for damned sure and in fact, she mused as she straightened up she would be damned if she would spend any time with it actually.

She would wander off and away from it when the cage opened and head for her hole even through she did not need or feel the urge for a sleep. Narrowing a disdainful glare in its general direction she sniffed, decision made.

That was until the cage opened in an unfamiliar part of the ship.

The area was flat and bare and the stars twinkled through the large plane of glass at the end. It was also a lot lighter than the rest of the ship and through it was bare of seating and such it was bustling with activity. Others of the things were engaged in rough and tumble – Chase's favorite game.

Knowing that Di'Sha would not be on upper training decks at this time H'tch after giving the third alpha female an amused glance decided that he was due for some exercise and it did not take an expert in posture, even through he was to know that the small female he was with was also climbing the walls with the need to burn off energy. He had seen the expressions she gave when the males on her group would leave talking about their need to exercise and of the wrestling matches that they had been part of – even through they had all lost; they had put up enough fight to gain respect.

He watched how the stance went from disinterest into a flurry of activity. He wondered if he were to lay a hand on her twitching shoulders if he would receive a shock from all the energy that seemed to be drawing to the surface at that moment.

He strode past the ooman and taking the lead as was his right growled with satisfaction when he heard the dainty steps behind him. He paid no attention to the low voices of others of his creed, ignoring them all his attention instead fixed on the flaxen haired head that swivelled this way and that, seeming to not concentrate on a fixed point but H'tch new better. He knew a predator when he saw one and did not know whether to be pleased that the one walking behind him was obviously noting strengths and weakness.

The fact that she was ooman was puzzling but he recognised the danger she presented in the way she walked and of course from first hand experience, his armour still bore the scars of her surprisingly sharp claw tipped hands. Hands he had inspected when she had been downed. Ooman females, to his knowledge were cow like in their docility except for the few that had a backbone, as it was usually the males of their race that held the power. Of course he had never gone on a sight seeing mission but there were tales dating back thousands of years that spoke of rare acts of bravery from the curious race.

Curious, was also how the mother and child managed to heal themselves so quickly while others of their party took a week maybe more to become fully active again. H'tch stopped before his favorite mat and glancing down was pleased to see that she had not become distracted by others of his kind, despite her annoyance or perhaps vengeful thoughts and had followed him closely. It still baffled him that something that wasn't even chest height packed quite such a punch.

Zion's mouth was sealed shut harder than a Kainde amedha's rectal hole about their physiology only saying that they weren't so dissimilar from them – a fact that even the most uninformed yautja knew. Suddenly his musing was cut short for there, was his darling sibling striding towards him a gleam in his beady golden eyes. Resisting the urge to roar and commence with pummelling him, H'tch instead cast his brother a baleful glance.

"Finally. I knew it wouldn't be long until you saw sense elder brother."

Puffing his chest in an attempt to look bigger, despite the fact that the disgusting soft meat barely acknowledged his existence. Di'Sha cracked his knuckles, fully aware that this was a busy time on this particular training deck and was looking forward to reclaiming a portion of his honor. His sire had declared that the oomans were not to be harmed but that did not mean that he, Di'Sha could not break a few bones or cause grievous bodily harm did it?

Besides one could surprise ones self with what could be lived through. A point that he would show the one who tarnished his man hood hunt and then made him look a fool amongst the other unblooded and then the warrior elite. What he did not expect was the anger visible in his brother's visage or the expression of boredom that graced the subject of his ire.

"I will follow our sire's orders. A little spar, something for 'it' to show the others of its kind and don't think that I can't issue a friendly little challenge. The ooman males have all accepted and have not been overly harmed."

Glancing down at the soft meat, he added with an excited ticking of his lower mandible. "I wont hurt it, much."

Striding past his brother and ignoring the clench in his jaw, Di'Sha pirouetted, stanced and let out his loudest and in his opinion, best warrior call. His reward was that all other activity stopped on the deck, all eyes, including that of a few of the visiting yautja females turned to him.

The stench could have choked her if she hadn't been forced to breath it when she fed.

Everywhere she looked there were packs of hulking things playing her favorite game. Did he bring me here to play? The thought was… confusing. He, it was the sort of enemy. What enemy wanted to play with its foe? Cocking her head in confusion her feet had followed where he/it led. 'Heetch' had brought her here to play. Should she play back?

The mother would expect her to play nice which she didn't have a problem with.. which shot another flash of confusion through her. Was she to be disarmed so quickly by this show of friendship or whatever it was? Well, it was better than going for an unneeded nap.. Looking at his speckled chest noting that despite him being a lot taller than Johner, they looked the same, similar bulky shape and if she closed her eyes to it she could envisage playing tag with him.

Well, she could of would of until the other stupid idiot piss ant found them. This one wasn't quiet like the other, he would do that annoying hissy, growley clickey thing, point at her when he thought no one was looking and despite the language barrier, Chase knew that he wouldn't want to 'play tag'. As he approached it became clearer that she was brought here for more than just a game. She wasn't so much of a child not to understand revenge and having being the recipient of a bit of a beating from a stranger bigger fish she understood perfectly how he felt. Humiliated. Humbled. Laughed at.

Taking a deep sigh, shoulder heaving theatrically she stepped out of his way, glancing at him quickly from behind albino lashes.

She could –feel- her mothers glare on her back almost flaying her alive with its intensity. Well, she could say that she was playing rough and it wasn't like Johner didn't get the odd scratch here and there and besides the 'Heetch' had brought her here after all and if all else failed she could blame him.

A small smile parted her lips from her teeth at the suddenly violent trains of though running haywire through her neural processes, oblivious to the fact that short and stupid idiot thing was thinking the exact same thing.

"Play?"

Giving her best impression of the puppy dog eyes and despite the fact that she didn't want to, reached out and touched the 'Heetch' on his upper arm squeezing slightly, using the same stare that turned all four of her male pack into mush at her feet.

He didn't seemed convinced that much was obvious, perhaps he felt the same way she did about the fact that the room had grown a million eyes and all were focused on their particular space. Sighing mentally, Chase sought through what else worked. Hmm, no only works on Call.

No.. Last time I tried that mother was furious..

Then it suddenly came her!

She had seen Vasquez do this particular thing when she had wanted Johner to come into her room. What she needed Johner for Chase didn't understand but it had worked, within seconds Johner had melted into a puddle of slush and given in. Mentally smirking at victory, she stepped closer to the 'Heetch' and keeping her hand where it was on his arm, half draping and half turning herself into full body contact.

It wasn't quite how she remembered it, Vasquez had been whispering something she didn't understand about 'Beds' and her left hand hadn't been visible. Taking another breath she repeated herself.

"Play?"

H'tch couldn't believe it. She was initiating full body contact willingly. Initiating it willingly and very well, so very well he could feel his balls tighten at feather light touches on his arm and then again further at the feel of her breath against his chest. Then there was the very female stare he was receiving. Her head was tilted at such an angle that it made one side of her throat bare and the light overhead highlighted it to him and made his fingers itch to touch, to slide his thumb around and along the delicate and soft skin found there.

The clever little minx.

Breaking his gaze from the little minx draping herself over him, H'tch glared at his brother. How could he refuse a request from a female, even an ooman one who asked him like that? Lifting a hand and resting it on her slender shoulder and returning the light squeezing that she was doing H'tch motioned his agreement. Dipping his head and making eye contact he spoke to the sly female he was caressing.

"…Yeess.. Only a spaar."


	7. And Into The Lions Den We Go

H'tch felt his heart jump in his chest when the female bared her teeth in what he knew now was a smile and rubbed her face against the back of his hand in what could only be happiness. If she had been a yautja female, she would have been on her back, despite the fact that they had company. The smile seemed to cave in on its self and the warm puffs of air against his chest that had being playing havoc with his senses and the tingling on his arm were suddenly gone.

Swift little female.

Standing with arms akimbo, and scowling at his younger brother and at any that were making disparaging remarks under their breath H'tch settled himself to watch. It seemed that he had made progress with the female if she was willingly touching him and initiating intimate and meaningful contact. Glaring at a particularly loud voice, he issued a snarl until the voice stopped and managed to turn his head back to catch the first move and wished he hadn't.

Typical Di'Sha.

His little female had ducked underneath the thick corded muscle of his brothers arm and with a dainty move hooked her foot in front of his feet and with a joyful scream of "Tag!" sent him on his way to his first face plant. Rolling his eyes at his brother H'tch bit back a heckling comment that was itching to burst its way clear of his throat and instead swallowed his biting sarcasm.

The next move, if it was possible was worse than the first. Resting his face in his clawed hand, H'tch wondered if his father knew how stupid the youngest of his seed was as pale claw tipped hands wound their way into dread locked hair and yanked as they flew past, issuing another shout of "Tag."

Di'Sha picked himself up and growled. He had heard his brother speak to the soft meat in its language and wondered if he would translate.

"Lucky shot, soft meat. You just wait until I get my claws round your throat..." Raising a mandible in mocking supplication at his brother, ".. And then see who calls 'Tag'."

It was going to be long sparing session.

Ripley was nowhere to be found. Neither was Hicks or Call. Probably having lunch, brunch or whatever chatting with the big wigs of this rig. Having found Johner and Hudson goofing off watching a few choice movies of their lost porno collection in their quarters Vasquez had great difficulty not sitting down with them and adding her own heckles to the dubious looking redhead doing outlandish sex acts on a sweating old man.

Slapping both of them upside the back of their heads and bringing them up to speed she was surprised at the speed that they were up and ready to go find their young team member, noting that Hudson picked up a knife and 9mm and Johner claiming his trusty moonshine cum shotgun flask Vasquez could of smiled. They looked like they would really try to stomp the shit out whatever got in their way.

It had taken fifteen minutes for Hudson to run a scan with his still fully fixed PDA when Ripley suddenly made an appearance. Gulping, Vasquez wondered how she should handle this.. 'Hey mira, I got pissed off earlier and taking me literally the kid has gone off with the whatever they are that stuck me like a pig and rattled her brains.. yeah you know the tall one.. the one that looks like he could take apart a truck barehanded.

Yeah.. don't grow an inner mouth and stick it in my head..'. Shaking her head knowing that being flippant wouldn't be her best bet was about to explain when she was beaten to the punch.

"Gather everyone up. I want full diagnostic on all weapons, scanners and I was a welcome wagon rigged for immediate deploy. We're going hunting.."

Pausing in her order, Ripley took the time to test the air.. Her child had not been here for a while, her scent was stale and looking around didn't see her skulking in any of the corners. Facing them again, noting that Vasquez looked by far the guiltiest and raising an eyebrow at the blue movie on the monitor asked a question that she could tell the Latino and the dastardly duo were dreading.

"Where's Chase…?"

A harder blow, harder than what was considered appropriate for the game of tag would of sent her flying if she hadn't expected it – the thing rolling its shoulders and then pointedly sighting where he would lump her one also gave her a chance to fully avoid it but even through the blow glanced her shoulder, Chase shot back a few steps. There was a lot of snarling, clicking and roaring going on around her, everywhere she could see there was a thing staring back at her, shaking a balled up fist and doing their impression of catcalling.

Cocking her head she waited for 'it' to call 'Tag' which it didn't do. It didn't say anything it just splayed its arms again and did that whole in your face-roaring thing again. Stepping backwards a further step Chase mentally shrugged to herself; she couldn't get punished if she accidentally broke something belonging to him could she? Couldn't be blamed for a game of rough and tumble tag getting a bit heated and besides if things turned nasty there was a nice comfy air vent in the corner to her left and she would bet a whole box of peanut brittle that it would eventually lead her to somewhere familiar..

Blinking and staring at the fist coming towards her almost in slow mo, she dropped to her knees and with a flourishing pivot struck out with her left foot, almost smiling with satisfaction when the heel half embedded itself in the things kneecap. A quick bend, flip, crunching motion here, and a little nippy zippy move here.. Just wrap my hands round its throat, maybe dabble with pressing claws into the windpipe again and guess what I'm doing?

Reliving the time I first knocked you on your ass. Idiot.

The baying of the crowd had gotten louder when Chase had sunk to her knees and sat on the it, attempting to pin it in place with her weight on its butt, while looping her arm round its neck in a good natured and friendly attempt to half suffocate it. She spared a nanosecond to look at the 'Heetch' and he was where she had left him. She couldn't be sure but she thought she saw a conflict of approval and disapproval it his strange featured face.

H'tch smiled in his own way – his little brother was over confident and didn't or wouldn't understand that his movements lacked the finesse of a proven hunter, despite his muscle growth it was useless unless he knew how to use his body to his advantage. He, himself had called every single move Di'Sha had used to the delight of the spectators. His unblooded friends were baying across from him, lifting their voices like savages with their encouragement and he did not doubt that if he or at least a greater contingent of blooded and worthy elder hunters had not been present they would of all attempted to swarm his brave little knife.

He had seen the way the female seemed to shake off the handful of blows that she had received and wondered from the way she moved it she chose to take them or if she could of avoided them as easily as he could of. Eyeing the way she had backwards straddled his younger brothers hips and was now applying pressure to his windpipe H'tch felt in a small way, envious of his brother at that movement, envy at the thought that it was his brothers skin that would feel the pressure of this particular females thighs, squeezing.

Looking to the left of him, he was further amused to see six or so females also among the crowd, namely the female that his brother had pointed out as one day having the honor of baring his seed. She didn't look like she would be very honored at the moment, he laughed to himself. Her mandibles were splayed in amusement and every now and then she would shake her locks over her shoulders and bark with laughter.

"Put it down."

The yelling and howling suddenly stopped. The yautja closest to him parted after spotting the owner of the ooman voice. It was the alpha female of their strange new additional family.

Ripley strode closer to where her daughter was half sat and half strangling a youngish looking alien. Lips twitching in amusement at the picture; of course she would find the training decks a desirable place to go.

The company.. was surprising.

Eyeing the easily seven foot plus alien that had stepped closer to her young when she had 'dismounted' her prey and even more shockingly laid a hand on her daughter shoulder. Even more shocking was that this feat was allowed – Chase disliked these beings; their link proved this. Even she saw them as rivals in a way. They hunted what she promised to wipe from existence.

Xenomorphs. Aliens. Bugs.

Tilting her head she concentrated on her child – she was her mother in everyway despite the fact that she was a conscript. DNA merged and formed into perfection. She was not Amy and nor was she Newt… Rebecca. She was hers. Reaching out through the link she informed her child of their intentions. They would hunt and she would take place beside her when they went fully into the hive and they would leave nothing alive. For the benefit of their audience also thought it wise to speak. It would not do to arouse suspicion.

" are there. Prepare."

Chase felt the link invade her mind and could of died from the sudden surge of energy that started to pump into her body. They were heading for another infestation..

Another hive with drones.

Stupid drones for her to kill.

With a low hiss leapt forward and running full tilt ran straight past her mother heading with sure steps to the hold that housed the Betty, where the others would be getting their things together.

She would finally get a change to stretch her legs!

The clicking and growling was the second thing that ticked her off. It was like sitting next to a pack of snarling dogs and despite the fact that Vasquez thought of herself as a 'bitch' there were limits and she had almost reached hers. With a growl in her throat she turned to the nearest culprit and flinging a finger in its face, hissed at it in fury.

"If you don't can it buddy you and I will be having private words…"

Narrowing a death glare at the now silent pack of hunters she turned back to priming weaponry. She didn't miss the way the kid's admirer gave a severe glare followed by a motion with its hand. She'd said it before but seriously the men of whatever race they were, were seriously pussy whipped. She liked it. Sliding a calloused hand along the silky casing of a 9mm she gave it and its twin a once over. Ripley's instruction had been clear, The Kid would now be packing not just a blade or two she would be carrying live guns and whatever ammo could be stuffed into her grubby combat pockets.

Eyeing a snickering Hudson she gave him a sardonic smile followed by the bird. Cocky little fucker will be pissing his pants soon enough. It wasn't a hive they were visiting. A small outpost in the middle of no where cultivating the black sons a bitches, probably a smallish army guarding them and probably no more than six of eight of the xeno's probably in some intricate holding being adoringly looked after by the boys in white.

The small army would probably be mostly made up of synthetics each with their directives fucked to shit and each with a bullet with names on them. Rolling her eyes at the hulk of alien that was once again practically foaming at the mouth and dancing around like he sat on an anthill Vasquez fought the urge to yell at him again. Gritting her teeth instead she signalled for Chase to come closer.

As expected the six that were the noisiest immediately shut the fuck up and stared. There seemed to be a lot.. A swift head count confirmed it, fifteen of the fuckers. Well they could be useful in the eventuality that a bug was snapping at her ass. They got in the way, collateral damage. Another small smile creased her lips. Even through she guessed that she would be in trouble later for letting the kid wander around by herself, well not by herself but details; she caught the end of the conversation between Hicks and Ripley.

She had been playing 'Tag' with them. What she wouldn't have given to see that.

Being in need of a few hours here and there of sleep made teaching the kid things very easy. Data disks, headphones and a monitor followed by a quick fleeting run through the next day was pretty much all the input any of them had in the basic handling of firearms and self defence. Grinning wider at the memory of the Kids first face plant on Johner had her also chuckling to herself.

"These are my babies. No gripping them too hard, I know how you fidget with your paws, Diablo."

Patting them and with an exaggerated mournful sigh she lifted the holster and motioning for Chase to lift her arms slipped the leather straps over her shoulder and then fastened the clips across her stomach. Giving that a poke at the blank expression and grinning at the swift blink followed by rapid blinking reached out and tweaked the button nose.

"Vriess has some other toys for us to try up front so lets leave these hombres to do their own lock and loading, hey?"

A soft clicking had Vasquez's eyes rolling again and slamming a foot against the metal underfoot and spinning round theatrically death glare in place, hands low slung on her hips stared at each of them.

Silence.

"That's what I thought…"

Following the dismal lighting stepped into the corridor made her way along it until she heard the crap music choices that Johner always played before going after bugs. Little Richard's 'Long Tall Sally' was not one of her favorites.

The harness was unfamiliar but it didn't feel like it would get in the way of her blades, the longest already adorning her shoulder. She probably should of followed Vasquez but she felt rather than saw the Heetch's eyes on her the entire time. After the game of tag he had come calling and despite displaying nonchalance had picked up on snippets of what he was communicating until the greying one that was as big as he was joined him.

The point of it she guessed was sharing information, and it was later settled that a small contingent including the Heetch would be coming along. She had been draped over Johner's shoulder at the time and he had mumbled under his breath about how sometimes revenge was a bitch that served ass cold. The wording was strange and she wasn't sure exactly what he meant but she had grinned at him and snuggled closer. Johner whistled at something that she obviously missed and when she glanced up eyed the now stiffened H'tch who had almost angrily turned away.

Curious.. He had never once displayed emotion before, seeming to almost be like the mother.

Again he was staring, probably wondering why she hadn't followed Vasquez. Leaning against central platform that was obviously made for either sitting or placing things on Chase slid her arms round her knees after she had hiked them and stared back.

H'tch was aware that he might of committed some social faux pas by ooman standards when he uttered a growl at the sight of the female he wanted to claim for himself 'snuggling' with another male. No matter that he knew that the male was not her mate as he had first thought more like an elder sibling he had not been quiet or quick enough to stop not only his father but the alpha female and the alpha male from noticing.

The male Johner noticed and did the baring of teeth that he knew was a smile and not a challenge and shrugged his shoulders. It was maddening. The completely oblivious look that said female levelled at him after his slip calmed him somewhat as did his father muttered instruction. A few moments later the meeting, despite the language barrier that was aided by the translators that assisted with the more intricate ooman language he made himself march away and sought relief.

The female was faceless to him, the musk was scentless and the touch was hollow. It wasn't the yellow eyes of the female below him wide with pleasure that he saw beneath him as he speared her slick depths, it was his little knife that was writhing in abandonment, skin slick with sweat and sweet moans teasing his ears. It was that vision that sent him over the edge and found him relaxed.

It surprised him later how much he minded the stares the little knife got. His brother muttered angrily at the majority of his friends that levelled hungry looks at the ooman females, perhaps wondering if they were easier to crack than the females of their own race. The sly body contact that she had initiated piqued his interest into an almost feverish state. Like the majority of females she had used her wiles to get what she wanted and he sincerely wished that she would use the same tact the next time she wanted something from him. Like right now..

The little female was currently sat next to his hunting case and was matching his stare. Standing and snarling at the two young bloods that barred his way H'tch strode to the raised platform and activated opening mechanism to his case, having watched the oomans ready their weaponry prepared to activate his own. Staring at her from the sides of his eye and noticing when she wriggled slightly and leant over his shoulder obviously curious at what he was removing. He removed his spear, wrist blades, headgear and other assorted armaments carefully placing them down beside his curious little knife.

Looking up H'tch sensed the humor of his comrades and with a huff glared at the young bloods that were practically biting their tongues off at the sight of him so close to an ooman female and hot being hissed at or threatened in anyway. The feisty small one took pleasure in hissing and spitting at the males that circled her at every opportunity and was not afraid to use her fists or a well-aimed kick to get her point across. The alpha was cold and indifferent and the other small slight female kept to herself.

He reached out and curled his fingers around his bakuub spear and in a flourish of movement whirled and extended it in a single move and stanced, poised with the tip of his spear ready to pierce an enemy or be slung. He eyed her, looking for interest or boredom and wondered if ooman males displayed their potential in this way or if it was really a long arduous task of wooing with pretty words. He splayed his mandibles slightly in amazement when the little female daintily hopped off the platform and ran a small digit along the smooth tip of his spear and then looked down at his wrist blades, his shoulder cannon.

He sensed that this was curiosity mixed with what he gathered to be professional interest; he had seen the still images of the ooman clan standing round downed Kainde Amedha and other assorted prey and had appraised their own weaponry with gleaming eyes. Females of the Yautja hunted but the majority gave up the pursuit after a few years of adult hood, seeming to be content with being fawned over the males and breeding.

The female before him cocked her head suddenly and it appeared that she had perhaps said something. Having not caught it H'tch shook his head and mimicked the head cock.

"…say.. Something, little knife..?"

The female blinked at him and then as he had reached for a weapon. Her hands went to her shoulders and unslung two lengthy bladed shafts and twirled them before presenting them. The left was shorter and he could see his reflection in the face. The one in her right was longer and had a serrated edge and every now and then there were slight bubbles along the gleaming shaft hinting at what they were used for. Long knives. They suited her style; lithe, quick but he knew that there were reserves of power.

The way she bended metal and how she attacked the holding pen when she first woke up were prime examples and there was of course how easily she managed to down Di'Sha and a few others. An enigma as he himself had tested the largest male, Johner's strength and it was nowhere near. The little knifes mother has also displayed such strength.

"You should acquaint 'your' female with the business end of your spear, elder."

Di'Sha's irritating voice broke into his quiet musing and not bothering to restrain his anger, H'tch spun round and with a practised push sent his brother skidding back along the line on his back.

"Maybe I should 'acquaint' you, dear brother with the business end instead."

Taking a forceful step and growling low but constant tone splayed his left arm and motioned to the irritating snot. Yes, this female was his, even if she herself or the others of her clan didn't know it yet. He always got what he wanted and he was sure in the end she would willingly participate.

Di'Sha stood to his full height and pointed a long clawed finger in front of him. Snarling and hissing in defiance which was quickly extinguished when the little knife was suddenly gone from his side.

"Ha! Maybe elder brother you shouldn't worry about me and instead worry about what will be left of that monster when it tangles with the hard meat. Not that it should be allowed to hunt anyway."

"That ooman knocked you on your ass, you Pauking pustule and maybe you should remember that before pissing off your brother."

H'tch quirked a smile as a welcomed voice made itself known in what could of ended up as a brawl.

Aa'Ro.

H'tch grinned wider when the young blooded and unblooded warriors stepped aside and chattered with excitement that they usually used around him.

"I leave on a scouting mission and I come back to be told that I missed what was according to hearsay a very distracting adventure. Ooman hunters. Spitfire females that exude such a pleasing scent."

Aa'Ro stepped forward and grasped H'tch shoulders with both hands, an embrace that H'tch returned with relish.

"I see you have your eye on a particular female already.."

"Hn.."

Di'Sha and his unwelcome comments, comments that he knew she did not understand but was sure that they caused her to vacate his side were forgot at the teasing tone and laughing eyes that belonged to his best friend.

"Come, Show me the rest of this new addition to our hunting party and if I am not mistaken, soon to be clan."

~*~

H'tch did not miss the way Aa'Ro's eyes brightened at the sight of the little knife and noticed with satisfaction that she barely glanced in his direction before starting the little fidgety dance that she did when bored. He also noticed that his friend stared more than what was considered polite at the small waspish female that like his little knife was adorned with weaponry and cast dark looks in their direction.

H'tch and Aa'Ro continued to chat in their own language quickly bringing the other up to date with the others exploits, including the forth coming Kainde Amedha hunt that they were currently rocketing through space on a scouting cruiser to complete.

Aa'Ro grinned appreciatively when the dark female that was strapping armour to herself turned and gave him what he guessed was a warning look. She gave it every time he and H'tch conversed and he wondered if she found their language disruptive, the long sounds and wails that made up a greater percentage of the ooman language made his head hurt when he hunted among them. Giving her the equivalent of a yautja smile with a little added come on he was further amused when the female raised a hand and flicked her middle finger.

The ooman males that were leaning against support cages were laughing, enjoying the female's slight discomfort and black mood. His translator helped him understand the conversation.

"…Yo Vazzie he think you hot, man."

"…hey you put your foot up there, man you gonna lose it. Who knows if they have assholes anyway, man!"

"Hudson why don't you shut your trap before I lose my foot up 'your' asshole, Pendejo! And you can shut the fuck up Johner unless you want me to tell Call that it was you that downloaded that Virus that crashed the A.I… "

The fiery female stalked past her clan's males and started circling the taller female that H'tch had made a claim on. Aa'Ro was a connoisseur of the female flesh and despite the warning glance that H'tch gave him also stepped forward when the one known as 'Vazzie' flicked a switch on some grey device flooding the compartment with some pulsating beat and leaned back to unhook a line of wire from the taller females form and started to do the same fidgety dance like movements that the former was doing.

"It's some kind of dance.. Very enticing. Their own males seem to be immune to it but I had the pleasure of seeing it when they were fixing their vessel. No Yautja female moves the way they do."

Aa'Ro growled a little at the display, it was one of his fantasies, two females and him and he wondered if these two would oblige him as the Yautja he had approached had reacted with violence instead of curiosity. He picked out some of the words that frequented the beat.

'Relax' 'Take Your Time' and 'Infinity'.

The snakelike movements were pleasing as were the lewd pelvic thrusts that screamed repression and at least a few cycles of denial. The pleasing scene was interrupted when another female walked through the cockpit doors; this one also petite but this one had no expression on her face, a complete blank canvass. He saw H'tch stiffen as she placed herself between the females and them and wondered at the still blank expression, no hint of anger or censure appeared on her features or displeasure. She soundlessly pulled out a strange shaped liquid carrying device and the fiery female gave a squeal of excitement.

"And that one?"

"Appears to be the clan healer. The Alpha female is assisting with vectors and piloting as is the elder male, he appears to be very venerated and isn't allowed to walk anywhere or fight, they protect him way we do our esteemed elders."

"Hmm. A very interesting clan. Young females with males and no attachments, an elder of possibly numerous battles of such magnitude.. I came back just in time. I could run interference if you think your female will be receptive to a pre hunt tussle…"

H'tch snorted and shook his head.

"Oblivious. To a young male it would appear playing hard to get but I know better. I doubt she has yet attained her full growth by the way she is coddled but she is old enough to use her wiles. Oh yes, Aa'Ro they have wiles and if you are lucky enough to be on the receiving end I assure you that even you would be cured of your roving eye."

Aa'Ro remained silent and began to pick out words of the conversation that was now being had between the females.

"I don't like how any of them look at us, especially that one. He stares at us too much for my liking."

"Mira, he could of killed her but.. who knows. He acts like a little lost puppy… Ripley said he was very protective when she found Chase playing tag yesterday."

"I don't care. They aren't pets. They kill humans like us.. well you. For fun for chrissakes and you and the rest think that they are good ol' boys."

A soft but high-pitched voice chimed in, H'tch's claimed female little did she know.

"Not so bad."

The new female faced her and snorted, "Not bad. You hated them more than I did and now look at you. He takes you for a walk, plays tag and your suddenly treating him like you would Hicks and the fuck face brothers."

"Hey bucket o' bolts. Watch who your calling 'Fuck Face'. I can hear you over that racket you know."

"Fuck you Johner."

Aa'Ro quirked a smile as the male called 'Johner' beefier and taller than the others took to his feet and got in the females face and spoke in such low tones that none of it could be worked out. Whatever it was must have been good because the fiery female threw her head back and laughed long and hard as the male was sent to his back with a very angry females hand wrapped round his throat.

"All I have to do is squeeze…"

The doors slid open again and the female dropped the male with a snarled word.

H'tch pointed. "That's the alpha female".

~*~

Ripley strode in having picked up the gist of what was happening through the link. She searched for the cause and digressed that Call still had doubts about this hunting business. She was not opposed to using the new friends, she even hinted that she would prefer them to enter the fray first, taking on the synthetics and possibly free aliens. It would have been hard to explain that to 'them'.

They were at first amused by the claim that she and her crew killed the aliens, the amusement swiftly became shock and then after showing them some still imagery and the trophies that Call made of the odd alien tongue here and there became a need to see it in action. Oomans as they called us, fighting what they considered the ultimate prey.

She had noticed that the big hunter H'tch had taken a shine to her child but knowing that she would not be receptive even to a human put her mind at ease; at least for the moment. If Chase did become attracted when she stopped growing and they were still in this mess then she would worry about it. Johner, the big ape was flat on his back with Call slowly squeezing his throat in one appearingly frail looking hand with Hudson, Hicks and some Yautja looking on.

Raising an eyebrow at the one that she had never seen before tapped Call on the shoulder and then strode to the numerous weapon cases that were left here, there and everywhere retrieving the small but nuclear cleansing device that Hudson had designed and affectionately called 'No chance In Hell, Babeh'.

"Five minutes. Johner, stop embarrassing yourself, suit up. No signal beacon. Appears deserted but we have been there before. Scan indicates twenty to thirty aliens. Can't get a fix on any humanoids or synths but they are sure to be there. Let these guys do what they do but take care of business. Hicks, Hudson first wave. Stick close to those guys but if in doubt retreat. Vasquez, you and Johner left and back. The head guy tells me that they will scope first and then move in. Again, doubts retreat."

Ripley moved closer to her daughter and rested a hand on her messily arranged hair. 'And you, little monster no heroics. Stay with them but do not be afraid to leave these aliens if the team is in danger or if there is no way. Stay out of the hive if there is one.' Ripley rubbed her fingers over a cheek and then strode back to command having slipped on the communicator.


	8. Do A Little Dance Make A Lil' Love

The rapidly escalating ringing beep of the tracking unit had him totally shitting bricks but not for one instant did the boyish shit eating grin stop twisting his lips. Big fucking signal sure but he was fully loaded and able to totally kick ass. Acidic ass. Synthetic ass. Even bat shit crazy whiteys with their freaky high IQ's would NOT be able to like totally matrix out and bend away from the bullets, grenades and harsh language that would be coming their way. Hudson cocked a look over to his left flank and then at his right.

The new friends were just stood there as if he'd just communicated that it was a bunch of busty babes coming to meet them and not a handful of alien bugs. Shaking his head and eyeing his tracker again he felt the nervous twitch start off in his left eye. He wasn't scared.

He WAS not afraid.

Oh boy was he not afraid of the black sons a bitches.

Hudson flicked the sniper sight of his pulse rifle and then compressed the grenade launcher, priming the nozzle for manual firing. The haunting beeping was getting close together and if the readings were right there were possibly a maximum of six, six for fucksakes, bug fuckers that were strolling towards them. Scratch that, there they were.

Hudson spat as the bulbous elongated heads came into view. Only three of them. Hmph. Raising the muzzle of his weapon and compressing the trigger, Hudson brought the rain. Whooping and hollering he managed to scream "Contact" into the communication unit before the whooping and hollering commenced again.

He grinned as their bodies were torn apart by his peltering. Their death screams were orgasmic to him. A cross between a shriek and a hiss that was uttered full pelt and then just died. Like them. If he had been closer he would of probably made a face at the smell of the acid that was now starting to eat through the surrounding area. Taking care of three took only a handful of seconds, especially in an open space where ambushes were made easy.

Cocking a look over his shoulder he discovered that the new friends were still stood there, weapons raised, extended whatever the hell as if waiting for him to fuck up.

Grinning Hudson yanked the comm. unit clear and gave the all clear.

"First and second clear. Waves clean. Yo Johner where you and Hicks at, man."

There was a mediocre static buzz before he was answered. Johner sounded about as pleased as he was.

"Yo man, four of the bastards. Heading in further. Not a big place on top. Labs near the launching bays according the schemies. Ripley, Call already there. Kid and Vaz are scouting for the synth. Too easy to get in here man. Hicks says Forth and Long, 2 minutes."

Hudson wiped the sweat from his brow and with an easy move slung his pulse rifle and took out a shotgun. After LV426 like Hicks, Hudson kept one of these handy for close encounters. He looked at the two hunters that had his flanks and grinned as he walked past.

"Time to go see the candy man.."

Hudson trod carefully. Trust Johner to fuck with him and send him down death alley where he had to avoid the carcasses of the bugs. Fucking a'hole. Looking down the corridor he sighted a flashlight doing a dance at the end and whistled twice.

"Yo, somebody call for an exterminator or what?"

He picked up the pace when the two shadows behind him suddenly over took him, bounding over the still slightly smoking bodies blocking the way and landing gracefully along side others that had come along for the party.

"Vaz and the Kid?"

"Call's working on the power and they are walking the 'rim. Trackers are saying it's clean. Whole place is an ode to Dawn of the dead pre zombie attack and I don't like it."

"Hicks man, what's to like? Bug shit."

As to emphasis the point Hudson hocked a loogie and spat it at the nearest bug head that hadn't been blown to bits.

H'tch was slightly disappointed. There was prey here but not a lot. Most of them were in hiding. The ooman pack had said they could hunt whatever the found, ooman and alien and confusingly something they referred to as 'synths'. This he did not understand. There had been brief explanations; the most prominent was that they could kill whatever moved as long as it wasn't them. The ooman technology through amusing and somewhat primitive was too bulky for his tastes and they seemed to rely heavily on projectiles.

Not everyone, he thought darkly. His little female was nowhere to be seen and neither was Di'Sha. She was quick, agile and perfectly capable to defend herself but he got the distinct impression that she was used a primary point of attack. How could the youngest of a clan be used such? What happened to skill coming with age?

The mouthy male Hudson was very ungracefully spitting in the direction of fallen hard meat while flapping his lips about 'bug shit' and 'how pissed off he was'. Not bothering to greet the new bloods shadowing their ooman team member he narrowed his eyes when the talk was switched to the females. Aa'Ro was with them and for that he supposed he should be grateful should they get into trouble. It was his experience that while females of any kind could have the potential to be every bit at being as adept as the males they had an uncanny knack of attracting or finding trouble.

Unable to ignore this fact he activated his communicator.

"Aa'Ro. Status report."

".. Ahh. H'tch. I am currently surrounded by an abundance of female flesh. Your little female certainly is feisty but not as much as the one that will be honored by my perseverance at the victory feast. Mmm.. Delightful smelling beings aren't they."

"I did not ask you for a report on the ooman females, Status. Report."

H'tch didn't bother keeping the biting hiss from his words. Delightful scents indeed. Fighting the urge to force the ooman pack males to immediately descend on their females H'tch walked straight past them and knocked aside the barrier they were trying to pry away. He was able to walk through the mess that the perfect prey had left behind, mangled messes of what was once oomans, each with a whole the size of his head through their chests or the heads in some cases. Here and there weapons were strew across the floor and the lights from behind him illuminated the casings that each had spat in an attempt to cull the tide.

A swift head count and a second of mathematics had H'tch wondering. So far they had discovered varying pockets of those that had been used for hatching and those that had either chosen death or had been fallen upon. This latest brought the count to nearly thirty. A sizable hive if there was one. No queenly signature had been found nor no nest site. Puzzling. It was as if the hard meats were cultivated. Cultivated better than he and his would normally do.

A burst of static suddenly had his ooman compatriots whirling and huddling together just as a series of monstrous booms and the heavy sound of ooman weaponry resonating through the quiet skeletal structure.

She heard them, their voices soft, beckoning not only her but she heard them whispering to her mother as well. Ripley had told her that she was to announce her presence, something she had never done before and wait for them. Under the pretence of getting power back to the facility Call would arm the bombs in case things went south and that at the first sign of trouble she was to pick up sticks and run, causing the horde to panic and follow wherever she ran to.

She didn't like the slick whisperings or the unfamiliar thoughts. They saw Vasquez beside her. They hissed their displeasure and sadness when they were barred from her physically by another door or barrier. Chase was sure she would have a headache from listening to them talk. There was not chaos just a boring singularity. A single impulse for unity. Glancing at Vasquez she wondered if she voiced what they wanted, what they were saying would she turn that interesting shade of green white that Hudson did when shit usually hit or if she would be angry.

A faint scrabble behind her had her whirling. They had made another hole. Glaring down the dark corridor she sent this aggression into her thoughts, it was enough to make them slow down but not to make them stop. _I don't like this.._

Turning Chase started to herd and push Vasquez along panic was not something she had felt before but things were different now. She had never ever been allowed free rein when clearing a world of aliens and she was not sure if she liked it. It was too easy to become swept up in the need to wipe them out, the territorial urge almost swept her mindful state clean but mother was there soothing and then scolding when she tossed Vasquez up the flight of stairs and yanking her along the smallish air vent in an effort to lose them.

And then there were the thoughts about the jerks. They were hesitant, not fearful but they gave them more mind than they did her. It irked. Scrap that it properly pissed her. Narrowing her eyes at the pitch that was still there and then eyeing the hatch that led to where the others were waiting in ambush she was struck by a wayward thought. It was not her own. It was warm. No other way to describe it. Confused she dithered on the ladder until the soft beeping started to up in tempo.

Vasquez hissed at her.

"Shit, no time for sight seeing. Move ass."

Chase still hesitated on the last rung, half in and half out. She could take them. It would be easy to run, have them follow and pick them off one or two at a time. The light was suddenly blocked. Vasquez. Glancing at the furious expression peering down at her, Chase hoisted herself easily up the last six rungs and out into the sunshine.

Ripley tightened the grip on the scientist's neck. It, she refused to think of it as human, whimpered pitifully or at least it did until Chase seemed to shoot out of the emergency exit, preceded by Vasquez. Anticipation was rolling off her in waves and she understood the need that her young felt. The need to carve and gnaw her way through a rival hives, to make way for them. Watching the light way Chase circled the hatch and then eyed the service elevator behind her in her dancey predatory state Ripley suppressed a smirk.

She would keep one alive to tell the tale to the USM fools.

"Your Number Eight."

A faint 'ching' of metal breaking off under onslaught beneath them made him silent and then look at the hatch near him. The scientist began to babble, stammering here and there until she sliced a look at him and saw the beads of sweat and smelled the rank scent that was his fear.

Shaking him, she spoke softly.

"They are your pet science projects.. Silly human. Do you expect me to piss myself like you are so close to doing? I'm no longer completely human thanks to you and yours. I find myself fearing nothing these days."

Flinging the rambling man from her personal space it took a mere second until he found himself swallowing a bullet. A shocked gasp from the other surviving scientist had her smiling grimly.

"Twenty of them. Is that all? You'll have to do better than that. No queen and a hand full of synthetic rejects and you expect me to be.. Impressed?"

Ripley stressed the word 'impressed' and noted with satisfaction that her crew picked up on the conversation. Flashing her black claw like nails at the remaining scientist she was pleased when he seemed more inclined to speak.

"They left us here. Three days and they'll be back. I'm just a technician who signed on to make some quick cash! I don't know nuttin! Nuttin man. These black insects got loose and started to pick us off one by one. I don't know anything."

"You know nothing? Well.. You're about to find out.."

The tracker units were a flurry of noise as they all jogged to take up positions behind varying tips of machinery outside the facility.

Taking point Ripley smoothed the barrel of her pulse rifle and then ran a hand down her thigh feeling for the metal rod she kept handy at all times. Picking apart her brothers and sisters was easy as pie she thought with a mirthless laugh. Casting her eyes behind her she saw the line of hunters behind them, with the appearance of merely watching. Well boys, it will be one hell of a show.

The hatch blew open and was soon heaving with a trio of bodies. Ear piercing shrieks shattered the quiet a mere second before the full on booming voice of seven varying artillery machine guns. Ripley kept her stance over the now peeing man alternating between looking at where the aliens were trying to come out of and using the hive mind to see if any where intent on playing dirty.

The link was surprisingly quiet, there was only one train of thought and that was for them to get where she and her crew was. Casting a look to her left Ripley took in the almost regal audience they had and lifted a brow. Many of them seemed to want to storm down from where they were loftily watching them work and join in.

Chase it seemed was intent on the service elevator that was casting a shadow over her tiny frame. It wasn't empty it seemed. Motioning with a subtle shake of her head at Hicks who immediately took her child's flank, Ripley turned round and faced the now littered ground before her that was smoking in places and was being danced on by a victoriously joyous Hicks and Johner.

A soft chime was all the warning they got.

Whirling like a dervish Ripley's eyes widened in alarm as another albeit smaller packs of alien drones filed out, hissing and shrieking in the rage. She smirked as a drone that was charging Hicks was sent flying and with a twirl of a small hand a set of perfectly drooling jaws were severed, their owner crumbling into the dust in a delightful heap.

Still smirking Ripley leant against the once pristine APC vehicle and watched as her young did a slide from a full pelt run that would had a pro baseball player turning green with envy and then as quick as you like shouldering an obviously young drone out of the way and viciously attacking another with the shanks she favored.

She could have closed her eyes listening to the vibrant little snarls that she easily picked out from the rabid hissing and high pitched shrieking. It was over in a matter of minutes, four alien bodies in heaps, Chase stood in the center of them not even appearing to be out of breath or have broken a sweat. Looked like one of the aliens had gotten lucky, Ripley's eyes traced a wicked trio of claw marks that started at the chest and ended below the ribs.

The ripped fabric fluttered softly in the wind.

She would have Call check the injury but it would be healed in a matter of hours. The slight figure of her daughter stayed that way for a few moments and then seemingly shook herself and looked over her shoulder at her mother.

Ripley inclined her head and turned, the sign for job well done. A sickeningly moist squelch was heard then and Ripley suppressed a smile as Hudson immediately went into man PMS mode. This was fucked, that was fucked up, that was gross and why did she always have to take the tongues, maaaan?

Ignoring it all Ripley nudged Call who immediately tapped into the lab system, sending an automatic distress beacon. They had after all gotten what they needed now. They would raid the galley, hit the yard for parts and whatever else took their fancy.

It appeared that both species shared the same ideas when it came to celebrations. Too much alcohol and enough food to make you sick and then get some more booze.

They had been welcomed back as heroes, the kid dragging a drone behind her and Call carrying a dozen inner mouths. The kid was sent to their quarters injured and despite the fact that she had made a friend, Vasquez lips twitched at that, it seemed obvious that Ripley was not prepared to let her go to the 'victory feast' or whatever if the others were intent in joining in the festivities.

The way the big alien that had given her and the kid a beating from hell seemed to sort of hover and stare at Chase reminded her of a lion stalking a gazelle. Grinning she wondered if Chase would know what to do if she was hit on.

A loud yell pulled her from her train of thought.

Despite the fact that only they had actually tangled with a bug they all acted as if in some way they were all responsible for the successful almost 'orientation' clearing of a bug planet.

_Stupid Penedjo's._

A satisfyingly drunk smile was plastered across her face as she waded through the re-in enactments, they were seriously a bunch of pretentious pricks the lot of them. Acting all big and bad and for what? SHE was not impressed.

She was drunk and bored, a bit of a lethal combination if you were named Vasquez. The booze had an unfamiliar taste but this didn't stop her stop her random walking, instead she dropped her neck back and sucked on the tube, the fiery liquid delightfully tumbled down to her stomach.

The clicking was annoying. Narrowing her eyes to her left she snarled at them.

"Hey! Yo cago en la leche de tu puta madre!"

It was then that she realised that she had wandered down an unfamiliar corridor, this one looked like the others, covered in black metal and such but it was not one that she had ever been down before. Feeling more than a little bit frisky and comforted that she was packing Vasquez half skipped down the metal rabbit hole and found herself wishing that there were someone apart from Hicks, Hudson and Johner to celebrate with.

The kid had been sent to bed early to recover from receiving a wicked looking scratch and Call, Ripley and Vriess were content to 'talk' (as much as one could with the crabby guys..) instead of letting loose. Johner, the asshole ignored her pouty come on so here she was alone, instead of tucked up in bed with a big hunk of man seeing to her needs. Punching the wall, Vasquez made up her mind that she was going to get what she wanted, willing or not.

It was then that she suddenly felt warm breath against her neck and a pair of hands on her waist. Smiling to herself she leant back onto the rugged chest and surrendered to her hulking mans embrace.

Aa'Ro could not take his eyes off the feisty warrior female. There hadn't been any chance for him to make a successful assignation and she did not seem impressed by him showing his strength in the wrestling matches or by how much food and alcohol he could consume. Having been abandoned by an almost pouting H'tch upon learning that the female he desired was not attending Aa'Ro had almost given up until she walked away from the throngs and appeared to be carrying a bottle of his favorite brew. Unable to pass up such an opportunity he stole away after her.

He was impressed that she had made it as far as she did, after all oomans did not have the stomach to keep drinking real alcohol. But this female kept on impressing him. Her body, through short was hardened with muscle and the scattered scars that littered her body made her all that more irresistible.

A powerful female.

After watching her assault the wall and mumble in ooman tongue Aa'Ro made a decision, he would begin the game. It was easy to sneak up on her and when he began to squeeze her waist, emitting his mating musk upon her neck he felt a moment of triumph when she submitted so easily and snuggled into him. When she began to grind her backside against his crotch, he was hardening to the point of pain and let out a ragged growl of need. It was then that the female stiffened and pulled away slightly.

Aa'Ro kept his gaze level when she turned and faced him. He growled lowly and rubbed her shoulders while resting his forehead against hers and spoke in her tongue.

"..Pretty.. ooman.."

He watched with baited breath and noticed that she had indeed drunk a very substantial amount of special brew. Her gaze through still sharp was softer than he had seen it and her eyes were almost all pupil.

Feeling bold, the yautja slid a taloned hand down her shoulder and lightly scrabbled his claws against the soft rise of her hidden breasts, lowering his head to the female's neck, rattled off another growl of enticement. A surge of pride in himself went through Aa'Ro's body when he felt the first if timid response. The female moaned and closed her eyes, relaxing in his hold. It was all Aa'Ro needed.

Sliding an arm behind her shoulders and then kneeling to do the same behind her knees, swept the spitfire of a female off her feet and made a break for the elevator at the end of the corridor and then making a beeline for his quarters.

The growl in her ear was a surprise but she had been enjoying the soft cuddle and wandering hands. It wasn't Johner. She was further surprised to discover it was on the new friends and from the look in its eyes, a look the woman in her recognised, it wanted to do more than get its ass kicked or have a friendly chat.

It had started to knead her shoulders and when he had lowered its head to rest on hers she felt almost intoxicated. The warm breath took hers away and left her feeling strangely warm inside and not the familiar warmth that accompanied a good fuck or a six-pack of bourbon. She was drunk enough, she supposed then to not care that the one in front of her that was now kneading her breasts and doing so very well, was not human. It was male and obviously wanted her, unlike a certain oblivious asshole that was probably still carousing.

Vasquez resolve disintegrated completely when it told her that she was pretty. Ok, so it was a line it used in its own language as it came across so practised but it was nice being thought of as attractive. And so she had closed her eyes, breathing in that musky masculine scent and thought to hell with it. Submit. She opened her eyes again when she was suddenly bridal style in its arms and was being ran with towards the set of elevators. She stifled a smile when the male feverishly punched at the dials and growled dangerously in its throat at the slow response time.

It felt nice, despite the fact that it was an ugly son of a bitch and the crab like things on their faces freaked her out normally, the way it stared at her and brushed the sharpened points across her neck, cheeks and lips felt… dare she say it nice. It also had a bad case of wandering hands and when they were in the lift it had put her down and caged her with its body and steel banded arms, rubbing against her until all thought left her. Soon all she saw were the lust filled eyes of her soon to be alien lover and the ragged growls and rapid intakes of breath that sent her pulse racing.

A blink of an eye and they were running again, she chuckled when it punched a keypad outside a room and spun her in the doorway when it opened, practically jumping her then and there. The door closed with a whoosh behind them and the only sounds to be heard where two rapidly beating hearts and the ragged breaths both were breathing.

Aa'Ro quickly got to work, the game had begun but the female by law could turn him away unless she found him completely suitable. Wasting no time he began to caress the female again and began to disrobe her. The things she adorned herself with were unfamiliar but was pleased when a pair of pale hands descended and quickly undid some unfamiliar looking catches and slid pieces of metal in a downward motion before doing a delightful shimmy and stepping out of them. His breath caught in his throat when the female's delectable legs came into view and then so again when the gently rounded stomach was bared to his view, followed by a pair of perfect breasts. Shrugging out of his own now restricting lower tunic, practically ripping it from himself in his haste, pulled the female to him and growled at the feel of her soft bare skin against his chest and lower body. His cock hardened further and he nudged her stomach with it, making his intentions clear. As if they weren't already.

He pushed his mate, at least for the evening toward his sleeping platform and when she fell back crawled over the top of her, running his hands up and down her slim and yet study legs, feeling the muscles beneath his palms jump and shiver under his knowing touch, he was further pleased when the female with out any trace of timidity began her own assault on his person and did not hesitate to growl his pleasure. He could not fathom what to say, or what would be acceptable for her to hear in his tongue and instead growled, chattered and snarled in his own language. Lowering his head to her ample breast he spread his mandibles wide and brushed against them, pleased with her breathy whimper and how she pressed her hips into his. His breath caught as his cock rubbed against her sex. By Paya she was practically already primed for him. He could smell how moist she was. He clutched the female to him, rolling his hips against hers in a parody of what would soon become and breathed in against her neck.

He felt her soft hands run down his back and settle on his rear and then growled when she dug her softish talons into his skin. Rearing back, and unable to wait anymore he lowered his head to her chest against, using his tusks to circle her nipples and slid a long finger into the slick heat. A loud moan followed by the female spreading her legs and clutching at the bedding had him smiling. Rubbing against the sweet spot that all females had he was further rewarded by the feel of her rubbing against him again, spreading his fingers against the soft folds of her female flower rubbing against her in a circular motion. The female had no mandibles to stroke him with but her lips felt just as good, soft and seductive. Aa'Ro heard it then, it was not the growling rumble of his kind but it was consent. The breathy ooman moan that became a plaintive wail gave him what he wanted.

"..Yes… Oh yes.."

Withdrawing his fingers and placing one beside the panting female and one underneath her fisting her hips, and with a deep growl slid the head of his cock towards her slick opening, growling when he felt her inner muscles start to clench around him as he moved deeper within her body, filling her with one deadly swoop.

Vasquez screamed when her lover suddenly plunged into her. Tears came to her eyes as she felt herself tear from his assault. She reared up, arching her back as her body tried to acclimatize to the heavy and savage digs. Instinct had her try to move away but he followed her, the male intent of savaging her body tucked his head into the curve of her shoulder seeming to be the only one taking pleasure from this act, that was until the way suddenly became lubricated enough for him to slid easier against her. It was then that Vasquez started to feel pleasure.

She rocked her hips against him, trying to follow the heavy rhythm, clutching at the body that encompassed her so completely, digging her nails into his arms, shoulders and then attempting to slice through his back. Fisting her hands into the lengthy dreadlocks she yanked on them with as much force as she could while locking her legs around his hips, bucking wilding beneath him. Vasquez bit down on her lip as she stared into the euphoric golden eyes above her, the rocking motion of hips meeting hips, the slick noises of flesh meeting flesh in a frenzy of movement. The male hunched over her, his pistoning hips becoming more fervent if it was possible and her eyes rolled back in her skull as the blossoming pressure started to build within her, her muscles contracting around the steel, so hard within her. The spring that began to blossom from the pressure began to coil, so close to snapping, opening her eyes again in time to see the male splay his crablike appendages again and grunt, Vasquez squeezed her inner muscles just as the coiled spring snapped.

Vasquez screamed.

The male froze instantly, his entire body shaking above her, the growl suddenly cut off; replaced by heavy pants and she felt a rushing pressure in her nether regions as he came almost violently. Muscles and veins standing out against his skin as he reached out and fisted her hair in his hand, making her rear up against him as he plunged one final time moving so deep into her she thought he would cleave her in two.

Incredible. Hot. Unequal able.

Those were the first words that came to mind as Aa'Ro stared at the female that was beneath him, their sweaty bodies still entwined. He stayed within her, not willing to give up the piece of paradise that he had found. Every now and then those wonderful inner muscles of hers would twitch around his softening length, making him want her again. He watched with affectionate eyes as the female stifled a yawn before her hand returned to his face again, tracing his tusks and eyes. He rolled them to one side and held her to him still. Stroking his claws down her back.

".. Pretty.. Ooman.. Stay.. Sleep.."


	9. Protect Destroy

A pair of intensely green eyes peered out from the large duct that had a good view of one of the main common rooms. Huffing slightly at another dead end Chase scurried back into the tunnel and on her hands and knees scampered along the run, this time turning right, her nose in the air looking for the illusive Vasquez.

She had not been with the others that had drunkenly staggered into their area last night. The mother's thoughts were fuzzy and despite her best efforts at engaging her in conversation through their link she had not found a reason for Vasquez's absence. No one seemed to know where she was, or at that point were to shit faced to care. Call had patted her head and told her to sleep.

Sleep?

_**Sleep?**_

How could she sleep when one of her hive mates was missing? Missing on a ship filled with things that were perfectly capable of tearing any of them apart?

Perching on the smooth metal lip Chase blinked and was again disappointed. Narrowing her eyes and frowning angrily she began to think the worst. One of the big jerks probably did something to her Vasquez. Hissing under her breath, she rolled her body and set off in the other direction. The duct system was not unlike something her instincts told her a nest. Except she felt sure that each of the exits would be guarded or at least monitored very closely. The air recyclers were going at full strength for some reason today and it was near impossible to track anyone by using her nose.

The scents were so messed up and coming at her from all angles.

Hopping out of the exit nearest her and sliding down the wall until her feet touched the soggy feeling mats of her recently discovered 'play room' Chase was at an impasse. How could she find someone in a place as big as this without her sense of smell? Rubbing the back of her neck and barely noticing when she almost walked into the backs of a ring of big jerks seeming to be all mimicking each other in their stillness. A quick scamper later and she was just about to walk out of the now stinky place when a hand dropped onto her shoulder.

H'tch woke with a sore head and smelling of a female he had no real wish to tangle with again, despite her best efforts. It had taken him far too long to escape her taloned clutches and he found that now for some reason he found the oily scent that she emitted distasteful.

He now preferred a softer scent, a softer female for sure, but one that had him use his brain. It had been a while since he had to actively pursue a female, his first female had him chasing but since then he was used to adoring gazes and soft bodies waiting for him after a hunt. He was immensely pleased when the object of his current train of thought walked past him, seemingly oblivious to him. He had watched her slide down the wall and had a vision of her sliding down on him just as sensuously but instead of narrowed eyes and an air of distractedness there would be one soul goal in her mind.

Culmination.

She didn't seem to mind body contact the last time and so he thought nothing of touching her shoulder and gently squeezing. He was confused when her head rose with a snap and she hissed at him, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. He thought about stepping away until she blinked a few times and then cocked her head at him.

_Distracted young one?_

He was distracted himself when she stepped closer and sniffed at him. She repeated the process a few times, her head facing each of the three directions the hub lead to. She huffed, her frail looking shoulders raising and then falling in a motion so defeated H'tch instantly wanted to soothe her, make her the vibrant albeit tricky female that she usually was.

"…Whaaatt.. wrooorng…"

His ears pricked when the female looked at her feet and then kicked at the metal. She sighed again and replied to him. Even her voice was subdued. Narrowing his eyes he just about caught the single word.

"Vasquez."

The little knife was thinking of Vasquez? One of the other females in the group. Looking at her critically he wondered if the sometimes-erotic surge that affected his own species was commonplace in ooman society as well.

Same sex relations.

Trilling in his own throat he dismissed it as soon as he thought it. The largest male and said female had smelled of each other on regular occasions and despite his own growing attraction, he knew for a fact that the males of her species, well in this particular clan thought of her as a child.

H'tch knew that Aa'Ro had been attempting to catch that females eye all evening. His constant posturing, preening and his many forays into the showcase fights had proved that. But, very funnily the female had remained oblivious and seemed far more content to chug down enough C'ntlip to sate a medium sized hunting party.

Rolling his eyes H'tch hoped that his friend had not done something stupid. Sighing, he scratched that. Of course he would be stupid. Put a female in front of him and the stupid pauk-de would be guaranteed to.. Breaking off from that train of thought the intelligent side of him knew that disturbing a mating yautja would be tricky.

His gut was telling him that the missing female had either been taken or lured to Aa'Ro's quarters. Muttering that he must 'Payas Leitjin-de Hma'mi-de' under his breath H'tch took Chases hand in his and pulled her behind him, making his way to the quarters that were opposite his own.

Tempted to beat a fist on the door and shout obscenities through the comm. system H'tch instead took a deep breath and motioned, as he did not have the ooman words. The missing female was in there. He did not doubt it. Hitting the comm. unit and not waiting for an answering tingle, he instead used his sire's override code began to bellow.

"Aa'Ro, you Kwei Pauk! I know you are in there, I can smell your foul stench from here you son of a Tarei'hasan!"

He was rewarded by an answering growl before the door slid open.

Despite the fact that he was pissed off and would beat the ever-loving shit out of him, H'tch could not deny that Aa'Ro looked contented and well pleased. A soft exclamation at his side had him look down onto his companion.

She was suddenly looking everywhere except at the male in front of her and when she inadvertently did look back at the bare form of Aa'Ro she did the blinking thing followed by another strange noise and began to look elsewhere again.

"What do you want H'tch I am occupied at the moment.. What.. haha. Your female is amusing. It is as if she has not laid eyes on male perfection. Shall I give a little wriggle, she if she can change colour again…"

H'tch clicked angrily, interrupting the amusing but ill advised taunting of the small female.

"Return the female."

Aa'Ro widened his eyes at the almost order. Tapping his left lower against his upper mandible he wondered if he was in trouble..

The female had not been taken in force, which H'tch had to know and she had given final consent before he had taken her.

"I had her consent, my friend. She is adorning my furs as we speak, you may enter and check on her if you are worried that I may be starting a fissure among the relationship between their clan and ours."

Turning round, Aa'Ro lead the way in to his personal quarters.

Vasquez woke with a foul taste in her mouth and very sore feeling in her entire body. She was also very warm and something was pulling through her hair and trailing down her back. It was nice. Grinning and stretching in the warm embrace she could of whooped, she still had it. Whatever she had done had made Johner come running obviously.

He wasn't one to indulge in post coital cuddling normally so she must have been fucking fantastic! However upon further feeling she felt as if she had perhaps watched a 'Rocky' movie and then went for Italian, saw either a tall blonde Russian beefcake or perhaps a replica of Apollo Creed and decided to be an asshole.

What was it about that crappy 21st century movie that made even the most weedy of people suddenly think they could kick ass? Jesus H Christ. Rubbing her eyes Vasquez suddenly realised that this place, this bed was not her bunk. Instead of cotton blankets she was encased in what looked like fur..

Where the hell..?

Her burgeoning headache was almost brought into fullness when it seemed that the air was full of hyper clicking and growling. _Oh Jesus' sweet ass_.

She was not **IN** her room.

NOT in **HER** bunk..

Looking down she closed her eyes and fisted a hand. Yeah. She was also bare ass. FUCK. Scooting round, she came face to face with something she wished she hadn't. It was not Johner she spent the night with. A banging sound had her turning her head towards the exit. She didn't imagine it when her new bed partner huffed and hefted himself from her side and headed towards the alcove.

Footsteps had her opening her eyes, her lips pulled back over her teeth, an angry insult perching on her tongue when someone familiar lopped into the room and then proceeded to happily fling herself onto the bed, perching there with a little bouncy dance.

Her eyes widened.

Chase.

What the fuck was the kid doing here? Where the FUCK was here?

Groaning and hanging her head in her hands, she wondered how she was going to explain this. Not that she knew what this exactly was. Considering she felt as if she had been run over by a truck and was incredibly sore between her legs it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that she had laid an alien.

Oh fantastic, the kid brought her new best friend to the party as well. Spying the beefier version of the one she had 'copulated with' god that word brought a sickened twist to her lips Vasquez had the sudden urge to throttle herself. This was the type of thing THAT everyone gossiped about and language barrier be GODDAMNED this shit was so juicy it would be sure to reach the guys within the day. Flinging herself back into the bed and groaning with frustration Vasquez almost shook off the small hand that had started to rub her back. Did the kid know?

Throwing back the covers Vasquez stared at Chase.

"Chasey.. You didn't find me here, ok? I passed out on the Betty and you found me."

At the blank look that she was receiving Vasquez raised a hand to her pounding temples and wished that the kid was not such a kid and had a more adult understanding of human dynamics. Hell, she was only six months old but surely she had picked up stuff right? Opening a bloodshot eye when there was a soft rustle she came nose to nose with the kid.

Vasquez watched as the kid sniffed at her and wrinkled her nose and then gave her a once over. Vasquez didn't move, and didn't have to will to move when Chase traced her cool hands over the small scrapes and scratches that littered her body.

".. Vasquez hurt?"

Swallowing and resisting the urge to spit out the bile that was suddenly flooding her mouth, shook her head. "No, kiddo. Auntie V got shit faced.. Are the others looking for me also?"

Vasquez breathed a sigh of relief and patted the kid's head when Chase shook her head. This could be hushed up, and if it couldn't then she would kill any of these scaly fucks that dared to gossip.

The Vasquez was safe. She smelled funny, a strange metallic smell that was familiar but at the same time was completely foreign. At some point she had bled, of that she was certain but she could not see a cut or a scrape deep enough that confirmed it. The strange smell seemed to be coming from beneath the covers and despite her curiosity, could not ignore the lessons that she was not to look at 'body parts' that were usually covered up.

Something the stinky jerk could learn. When the door had opened and she had smelled Vasquez Chase had to tell herself not to knock the thing out of her way. It was then that it moved. She had seen things like that before, Call had shown her data streams and such but she had never seen an unclothed body up close before. Not wishing to be told off she had looked elsewhere and had done the 'ahem' noise in her thought like that Call did.

She wondered what Vasquez was doing sat in the middle of a bed that reeked of thing and not wearing clothes but mentally shrugging her shoulders she sat still and waited for Vasquez to get up, dress and such so they could leave. This after all was not where they slept. She knew what 'Shit faced' meant and underneath the funny smell she could scent that she had been drinking that acidic smelling drink that Hicks, Hudson and Johner seemed to enjoy guzzling after they partook food.

Narrowing her eyes, she thought that Vasquez did not look well. Her skin was pale and she appeared to be very angry at something. Or someone. Looking over her shoulder at the unclothed big jerk and the H'tch she wondered. Did it, and she further narrowed her eyes when the big jerk did the rumbley sound that she associated with it's kinds laughter, have anything to do with why Vasquez was so pissed?

She was about to actually speak to the naked idiot when Vasquez was suddenly dressed and had a grip around her upper arm. She said something under her breath but Chase was not able to understand it. Shrugging again she let herself be pulled along and it wasn't long before she head the jerks go at it again, the clicking thing was really annoying. Would Vasquez do what she usually did and shout at them until they stopped? Surprised, Chase almost stopped when Vasquez didn't even turn around, instead peering round the door and into the corridor beyond it, checking out both ways before marching briskly towards the lifts.

H'tch wasted no time in showing his displeasure as soon as the females left. Slamming a meaty fist into his friends gloating face and grunting when said friend slid to the floor in a heap.

"Is your head not screwed on right?"

Not giving Aa'Ro a chance to right himself, kicked at his side and was further gratified that due to the amount of C'ntlip he had consumed the night before was unable to evade the punishment. Listening to him groan, H'tch still did not take pity.

"Give me a reason why I do not haul your diseased carcass in front of the elders? And put your hand down, do not interrupt me un worthy zabin!" H'tch aimed another kick at his fallen comrade.

"She consented, my friend… ouch! Lay off H'tch, you are killing my buzz."

H'tch splayed his mandibles, clearly not believing what his ears had just heard.

"And pray tell me _'My Friend' _how did she communicate this consent that you think you had. You obviously did not see how angry the female appeared to be. How in all seven hells are you planning on saving your balls if she claims rape?"

Aa'Ro rolled his eyes and with a superior air, splayed his tusks in a mocking smile and rested a hand on H'tch's shoulder.

"That would be all the orgasmic moaning stoke screaming she did in my ears, all three times I took her… Now, if there is nothing else, I wish to return to my bed and replay those glorious moments in my sleep."

H'tch stared dumbly and with a deep growl spun on his heel and stalked out of the rooms, slamming his fist into the control panel and almost taking the door off the hinges when it didn't open fast enough. Of all the stupid things to do… not that had a problem with it. Oh yes he did. How dare Aa'Ro do something that he wanted to do ever since he first met his particular ooman female? How did he do it? Hell he didn't even get a word in with the damned female that didn't get rammed back down his throat.

Grunting in supreme annoyance H'tch was suddenly struck by how foolish he must look at this precise minute, practically pouting and ranting under his breath because he did not get to play with his toy first. Pathetic. He was acting like a pup. No worse than a pup, he was acting exactly like his brother. Glaring down the corridor, he wondered.

Beating up on Di'Sha would be a perfect excuse to release the anger he was feeling.

Vasquez stalked into the main living area and ignored the cursory hellos from Hudson and Hicks and instead with a glare headed straight for the bunks. She blinked when she saw a slender ankle suddenly flash in her peripheral vision and then disappear. The kid. No, she wouldn't sleep in her bunk.

As childish as it may seem, she **VASQUEZ** was not going to let the shit that had happened to her last night become common knowledge, she would stick like glue to the kid and that funny mind link that she and Ripley had be damned. This dirty laundry was not going to get aired.

It had been three days since the incident. Three days it had taken her to be able to sit without wincing. Three days for the 'event' to be forgotten. Vasquez had all but avoided everything and all the places that would bring her into contact with the cruisers other residents. Keeping herself to her self had not been easy but it had been simpler than expected – with the Kid's help.

And so she ignored the 'event' or 'situation'.

The annoying thing about ignoring a situation is that it is never easy. Torn between wanting to pummel something and then delve head first into a black hole the next was not something that Vasquez did. Period. She regretted nothing. She was a rock, a hard piece of granite that resisted water, fire and wind. She was Maria Teresa Vasquez. One tough ass motherfucker born and raised in New Cabo, Mexico and didn't take any shit from nobody.

Private Maria Teresa Vasquez didn't hide from people either.

People being the operative word... She was hiding from the new friends. 'Friends' that took advantage of a shit faced hormonal woman, showed them a good time yes but left them red faced and sore the next morning. Punching the wall, Vasquez swore in her mother tongue. It had been a hell of a few days. Whatever the kid knew she wasn't spilling except for that single look followed by the delicate nostril flare when she had been first come upon. Instead of wandering off by herself and hiding in a duct or six Chase had stayed with her.

Speaking of Chase..

The Latino eyed the now yawning pixie draping itself on the left thrusters unit of the Betty. The Kid hadn't left her side since, probably hadn't slept either by looks of it. Watching her stifle another yawn Vasquez wondered how much longer they could hide out, as it was obvious she couldn't shake the brat sidekick. Ruffling her sleepy eyed friends messy mop of hair and chuckling softly as the almost blissful moan that she was rewarded with Vasquez knew she couldn't really hide anymore – no more goofing off pretending to be busy mending the Betty and no more fake hangover sleep overs.

Time, despite the fact that shit could fly; it was time to face the music.

"Yo kid, lets go get some breakfast. My stomach's about to turn carnivorous and eat itself."

"Vazzie has been scarce man. The fuck happened, ya'll had a lovers bust up or what?"

Hudson eyed his shipmate with a raised eyebrow while slurping down the purple meat stuff that tasted like his mama's chicken. Vasquez had been absent for three days, had gone to her bunk straight away complaining that she was coming down with something akin to the la certa plague and had for all intensive purposes stayed there for two days. Yesterday she had seemed to rally, dragging herself out of her bunk area and headed down to the Betty to do some work. Eyeing Johner when he didn't answer, seeming more intent on chowing down on yet another piece of the purple shit they both so adored, Hudson reached out with the utensil he had named the spork and pricked it against Johner's skin.

The response was immediate as was the narrowing of the eyes and the 'I will kill you, bitch' tilt to his slitted eyebrows.

"Man.. You don't move that piece of ass crap I will ram it in some orifice that you don't want it."

Grinning at the mans obvious bad temper where Vasquez was concerned the Marine decided to tease a little – after all if the honeymoon was over then it was his right. After all an idiot could have told them both that all the fling was good for was mutual pleasure and distraction.

"So honeymoons over, man?" Hudson sniggered and then full out belly laughed. Enjoying the dark look that was now being levelled at him.

"She got more brains than you, boy. And besides a little fairy told me that you haven't been putting out."

Hudson leaned back as a plate was sent his way. Widening his eyes almost innocently he whistled.

"Easy, buddy."

"How about you shut the fuck up Hudson and stay outta my shit. Nothings happened with Vaz and me. Still tight, aight."

Johner faced his food again and gritted his teeth. There was something wrong – ever since he had laughed at her drunken ass the other night he had gotten the cold shoulder. He had gone to find her later on that night but she wasn't in her bunk, at the eating rooms or the Betty. If he couldn't find her he couldn't apologise for being an asshole, right?

He had tried again when she appeared the day after, looking as bad as he felt but the words wouldn't come out and she didn't seem to want to hear him. Just gave him a look that said 'EVERYTHING is your fault' and fucked off to bed.

It had been difficult since then to get her alone – she was either busy, PMSing or the brat had attached herself and Vasquez wasn't inclined to send her away. The angry eyes he was getting and the silent treatment were irritating him and then there was that whole thing with Ripley.. When Vasquez had turned up the day after the hootenanny.

The shock on her face that had stayed until she had passed the bug brat had stayed with him. She had all those alien sense shit, so she obviously found something out right? There was shit going down and he wasn't apart of it. Hell, even the brat seemed in on it. Picking up towels and shit, Christ knows what else on command. Running a large mitt over his eyes he wondered if he'd ever find out how much shit he was in and when he'd get the green light to fix it.

The big man grinned when he looked up at the door to the eating hall opened, he knew the owner of the bad language that was currently being unleashed.

Vasquez pushed past the pendejo jerk off that seemed intent on walking at snails pace and let him have it not caring that he didn't have a translator. It flicked its claw things at her and stepped out of her way, obviously understanding that sometimes females got good and pissed and that all male kind needed to stay the fuck away.

Still grumbling she went to the center table and snatched a plate, filling up on whatever took her fancy. Casting a dark look to the tables closest to the large viewing port it darkened considerably when the alien that she had taken to her bed suddenly stood, looking very pleased to see her. She continued to level her glowering stare at him even only breaking it when the kid was suddenly there tweaking her nose.

Staring at Chase she felt suddenly stupid. Her standing there staring grenades into the fucker would bring more attention – chuckling ruefully she levelled a smile at the kid who was now poking her systematically in the stomach and sides. Heaving a sigh Vasquez finished loading up, threw some shit on another plate for the kid, motioned for her to pick it up and walked off to the table that was closest the alien version of a garbage dispenser, purposefully avoiding the table where the crew was perching.

As soon as she sat down Vasquez was aware of two pairs of eyes staring holes into her. Johner to the left and the guy who's bones she had jumped. Jesus fucking shit, she hadn't even asked his name. Breath hissing through her teeth she picked up the utensil that she remembered Hudson had re named the Spork and began to eat. Wishing that she had remained a coward and simply carried on eating the freeze-dried crap that made up the rations that they used when out in deep space.

Aa'Ro knew he was sporting his most shit-eating grin. His most pleasing female was it seemed up and around and he had the pleasure of inhaling her scent. Sneaking a look at H'tch and almost laughing at the sudden intensity that was gripping his face as well he mused about how in the many numerous levels of hell he was to tempt her away from her obviously disgruntled ooman partner.

They weren't mates or a breeding pair for he saw no mark marring her skin and did not see the circlet of metal that signified what was the ooman custom of 'marriage'.

Resting his head in his hand he stared at the prize. He watched with interest each time she stiffened, knowing that she was aware of his stare. His eyes narrowed with distaste when his rival leaned back suddenly and called out to his female and was gripped by the desire to remove said ooman males eyeballs for daring – true she was not his yet near as damnit. Aa'Ro was pulled from his musing when H'tch clear his throat.

"Ooman females do not like to be stared at as if they are prey, Aa'Ro. If you cause an altercation the fact that we are basically kin will not save you from my elders wrath."

H'tch paused and then with a smile in his voice, pointed a claw tipped finger at the females, his voice dropping an octave. "It appears that the female is showing you her displeasure right now. So help me you horny cur if your loins have yet again fucked something up.."

Aa'Ro understood the thinly veiled warning and could to some extent respect it, the oomans while they were oomans were now part of the clan and thus to be respected and treated with all the traditions of clan members. Slanting a dark look at the elder, Aa'Ro got to his feet and ignoring the commanding bark behind him strode after the retreating females. H'tch wanted to pound on him later let him – for a little look it would be worth it.

A few moments he was trailing the most delicious behind he had ever had the fortune to run his hands over. Glaring at the young un-blooded that were dogging his every move he moved his gait up a gear and moved to intercept.

Vasquez, he mused was a delectable female, he caught up with her and rumbled a soft purr in greeting. Seeing her stiffen he pushed past what he was sure was ooman rejection and grabbed her. Spinning her gently to face him he took a deep breath. If she was yautja it would be easy, tangle his mandibles with hers and start to coat her with his mating musk but she was ooman. And a very angry looking ooman, with eyes narrowed to slits and very harsh language.

He wasn't sure what type of male a 'mother fucker' was but he was sure that he was not that type after all, his mother was his mother by Paya and it was unseemly for a female of his to treat him thus and in front of the unblooded youths as well.

"Pretty.. Ooman. Come.." was all he managed to get out in terms of conversation before a fist caught his chin. Blinking with surprise at the suddenness of the attack and then rolling his eyes at the chuckles from behind him. They needed somewhere private so they could discuss her place, as it would not do to discipline such a proud female in front of others. Dodging another fist and then whirling around a very swift kick destined for his gut he caught her sternum with his shoulder and hoisted her, growling.

He did not realise that the youngling female that seemed to be a constant companion was missing until he suddenly lost his balance. Roaring with surprise and falling to his knees he lost his grip of his female and he watched with dismay as she spat in his direction and aimed a hearty kick at his ribs. Oh the humiliation!

"Pauk! If you do not leave I will make you wish your mother had never mated with your worthless father…" Whirling around, determined to set what he was sure was one of the unblooded attempt at being chivalrous dead in its tracks was surprised when he came face to face with H'tch's little rogue

Chase had followed when Vasquez left and had followed but at a distance. She was still.. hmm. Agitated. She saw the thing that she was sure had made Vasquez leave the food hall start to walk after her and had likewise given chase. She had watched quietly when it had spun her Vasquez round and had grinned with humor when said Vasquez began to slap, punch and pummel it for the man handling. What Chase drew a line at was the loud growling that she instantly deemed threatening and then the step up from the grabbing.

The instinct to protect her hive was strong anyway but due to the amount of time that she had spent with Vasquez in recent days she had placed the Latin woman in the same bracket as her mother and because of this placing the instinct to lay into the one that posed a threat, became a gnawing need and she reacted exactly as a drone would protecting its reigning queen. She attacked.

It didn't take much to unbalance the big jerks but anger, thick and pulsating made her run headlong into the heavily muscled back and knock him flying. Settling into a crouch and flexing her clawed hands she eagerly waited for Vasquez to move and lifted her lips from her teeth with a hiss when the big jerk dared to prattle and whirl around with further threat.

Returning the growl with one of her own and fierce hiss Chase glared and twitched again, almost visualizing her claws and teeth ripping the alien to pieces. It was her next move when Vasquez placed a restraining arm across her chest, cupping her shoulder in her hand and was whispering in urgent tones. Unable to understand this or the verbal battle that was going on around her Chase froze into place, he instinct was pounding in her head, her ability to understand was slipping away.

" .. I said GET fucked, man! Get away from us!.."

"Pretty.. Ooman. Leave.. Offspring.. Come. Now.."

"One more step asshole and I will shoot your ass, get it? Back the fuck away from us you scaly son of a bitch..! I said NOW!.. Chasey, baby. Its okay, okay? Lets go now."

Stop? It was attacking! Protect. Destroy enemy. There was a soft brush.. Mother. Mother was coming. The link started to sooth her rage, slowly bringing her back from the murderous intents that were forefront.

Well she was slowly loosing the urge until 'it' took a step in her direction.

The small grip the link from Ripley have given Chased snapped almost audibly as did the hardened muscles that were until that moment trembling under Vasquez's touch.

A piercing shriek was heard followed by an answering roar, which pushed Ripley into a harder run.


	10. Aftermath

Ripley shuddered when she began to pick up emotions from the link. Standing, leaving Hicks and Call in mid sentence her dark eyes pinpointed on the exit from the food hall where just a few minutes away her crew mate and daughter left. There was a hiss in her mind, followed by a slither of intense rage..

It was jumbled but the intent was clear. Danger. Protect.

Chase.

Chase was exhibiting warrior drone behaviour and was very close to snapping.

Practically commanding her child to calm, the oozing quality of the link becoming stronger as the instincts that were now flowing through the both of them started to become cloudy – there was danger. She was needed. Protect young. The alien in her was practically hissing in readiness when she felt the control of her little one snap.

Ripley looked down at Call and saw her reflection in the androids eyes and then smirked as a piercing shriek rocketed through the ship and was answered by a ragged growl.

"There is about to be trouble."

And with that, the bug busters rose and one and following Ripley's fast speed, filed out of the eating hall.

Vasquez screamed when Chase seemed to suddenly break in her arms followed by a proud array of colourful cursing when the kid shrieked a challenge, running head first into her molesting alien, knocking the wind out of both of them.

It was then a tangle of limbs, growls and hisses.

She was shocked, Chase had never been this aggressive not even when attacking the aliens.

She was always quiet.

Never was there this never ending hissing and deep snarls and there was certainly never this amount of intensity in her before. The kid seemed to actually want to take apart her opponent with fervour and there seemed to be nothing she could do to call her off. Keeping her eyes peeled on the rolling, shrieking collection of alien and human arms and legs she screamed for Ripley. Call. Hell she even screamed for Johner.

She couldn't stop this by herself; she would probably be killed if she stepped in.

Aa'Ro was shocked at the speed. He too had lost his temper and when the little female had issued a challenge he too roared his. The little knife moved like nothing he had ever seen and didn't seem to feel pain when they traded blows. He felt white-hot pain when it used its teeth on him, sinking deep in his neck seemingly trying to rip out his throat and he roared when he felt claws began to slice his hide from him.

"I wish not to hurt you, suckling…" Aa'Ro grunted as said younglings claws flicked across his shoulder. " Away from me Hulij-bpe!"

Grabbing the female by a leg he hurled her from him hoping that his throw would make her hit the walls and thus knocking her out, blinking when the female twisted in mid air and bounced off the corridor wall like a shuriken coming back to its sheath. He was stronger but there was nothing he could do against the ferocity and the speed that the female was attacking him with.

He grunted when a clawed hand swiped across his guts, thanking the gods that his skin, while still being cut by the clawed appendages seemed to be too thick to simply falter and let his insides fall at his feet.

The female Vasquez was screaming for them to stop but uncharacteristically the young female was not listening to its elders, which was strange.

Growling again when he was knocked flying, regaining his feet just in time to avoid a well timed snap of jaws, Aa'Ro slammed a meaty fist into the crazed females face satisfied when a crunch and a yelp allowed him time to push off from the wall and into the center of the annex of corridors. He felt the crisscross of claw marks up and down his body, she had damn near almost run him through with her claws, right through his cuts and he could feel the ooze of blood from that wound pulse thickly but he was pleased that the ooman female was no better off.

Her face was bloodied, his claws had scraped parallel lines along her collarbone, there was a limp to her gait, she was clearly favouring her left side and he could see that his last blow to her face had already started to bruise.

What he had done to warrant this type of attach he did not know but the warrior in him refused to allow himself to lose. While he was fond of the ooman troupe he was proud enough of his own superiority to know that oomans, no matter how canny could not better a yautja, even ones that fought the hard meat. He growled in warning when the female that should know better leapt at him again. It was time he armed himself.

Dancing back from the well-aimed strike of her claws and narrowing his eyes at the hiss that seemed to be breathed into his ear cavities, removed his ceremonial knife and twirled it.

"You are pushing me too far."

He heard the female Vasquez shout a warning but it seemed that the little one was still not paying attention. He would not, no matter how much of a beating he would probably get from H'tch or the elders allow a little snot of an ooman best him. It would be a disgrace. He waited until she was committed to engaging him and at the last minute dropped to his knee and swiped out with his blade, roaring in victory when a scream and the wet sound flesh ripping gave him victory.

Spinning round he seized the female by the neck and threw her into the wall, snarling when she hit with a thump and fell back to the floor.

Stalking forward he stabbed down, aiming for her shoulder when quicker than he could believe, considering the gut wound he had given, the female rolled backward to her feet and swiped her claws over his face, damned near tearing his tusks off. Maddened now, the male in him demanding retribution for his almost ruined sign of manhood rammed his fist into the females midsection, delighting in the pained scream and then again and again until he was successful in knocking her away from him.

Striding towards his target, he stopped when his female brandished a strut from the air vents at him. She had screamed for the rest of her clan when the fight started but they had not yet come yet. It felt like the fight had lasted an age.

He growled at her when she started to swing it, still shouting 'Ripley' in a high-pitched voice. Aa'Ro lowered his hand and looked at the female that had challenged him struggle to get up.

She was shaking with the effort to rise; the clothing that covered her chest and middle had the indents from his fists in blood. She was speckled every now and then with the green that was his but she was still getting up.

He backed off when she shakily got to her feet and swayed, turning and staring at him again. It was a hungry stare. A stare that a predator gave to its prey before it consumed it. She was loosing, did the crazed female not realise this.

Her wound to her sternum, he has obviously damn near caved in the left side of her rib cage from the blood that was oozing from her lips and the rattled sound in her chest. He stared at the half disintegrated knife, the metal was bubbling and bits feel to the ground in small piles disintegrating. The little one hissed again. She was still coming and he was not sure how long he could now last.

"M-di H'chak.. Do not push me too far."

No mercy.

He met her charge full on, the remains of his knife between his fingers. He swore the force they both used in that final charge was earth shattering as was the scream that came from his Vasquez when he slipped the have acid bubbled blade between the young females ribs.

He stepped away when she gave a half cough that he was sure was a intended to be a strangled scream of pain and reached out to catch her.

He did not have a chance as in his peripherals he saw his elder and his friend round the corner, H'tch with murder in his eyes and the Alpha Female like an avenging goddess powering down the corridor, the mother of the young ooman female he was sure he had just helped on her way to U'sl-kwe – final death – issued a similar snarl to her young and crashed into him and like a mime rein acting, he howled with pain when another set of claws half skewered him.

Elder Jo'ein had been alarmed when he had heard the challenging screams and even more so when a yautja voice answered. He like the oomans, flanked by his guards and sons gave chase taking another tunnel, as the ooman group lead by the alpha female took off in the direction of what was sure to be a fight. He was surprised that his mighty son ran out of place, over taking him. Jo'ein turned the corner just as his son did, at the exact moment Aa'Ro; his brother's progeny slipped a blade between the ribs of the Alpha Females child.

Instantly, he threw his son into the wall when the beginnings of a growl started to come up H'tch's throat.

He signalled for his guards to hold his son in place and stared at his son in sympathy when he fought, snarling.

Jo'ein turned when the sound of pounding footsteps alerted the oomans arrivals and seeing the look on the mothers face as the warrior he counted as his, went to catch the defeated youngling. He did what any self-respecting male did in the face of a female mother wrath. He stepped out the way, giving the signal that no one was to interfere. He watched without emotion as the female ran full tilt into the battered body of his nephew and proceeded to sink her claws into his already battered hide.

He turned away when Aa'Ro bellowed when a second set of claws impaled him, only turning back to watch when there was a loud thump, signalling that Aa'Ro had fallen.

He watched as the Alpha female, Ripley and the second in command female Call ran to the fallen body of the youngling. Jo'ein knew not the cause of the fight but he knew that while the youngling female was volatile she had shown that she did not needlessly start fights, especially after gifting him with hard meat jaws, albeit with prodding from the second in command.

She had approached him fearlessly and offered them to him and he had accepted, running his hand through her un-braided hair as he has seen others do. The youngster had been seen sitting quietly with his eldest son and even through she treated him with an almost forced acceptance he had seen the beginnings of a tentative acceptance between them – aided by H'tch's desire for the female.

But he also knew Aa'Ro.

He was his nephew and he understood the dynamics of a truce. He had heard rumours that Aa'Ro had tempted an ooman female to his bed at the recent celebration and had an inkling that this was something to do with it. Instead of interfering, as was his right as elder and leader, he stood and watched Ripley brandish her own justice and would do so again as the truth came out.

Turning slightly he pinned the female Vasquez with a knowing stare.

That female was ringing her hands and had the stink of his nephew all over him. Flicking his translator he approached the oomans circled around what would soon be a dead youngling if the amount of blood on the air were any indication. He was amused when the second biggest male, Hudson turned and brandished an ooman burner at him.

"Hey pal, back the fuck off."

Elder Jo'ein showed no fear of the weapon and walked past and looked down. As he suspected the little brave one, Yeyinde, was a mess and despite the crude genetics that she and her mother possessed was soon not for this world. He nodded to his guards and they released his still foaming son from their hold. Jo'ein called for Zion and hoped that maybe their enhanced medicines could do something.

Hicks was the first to recover and started to throw nitrogen at the pooling blood that seemed to have a never ending source i.e. the Kid and watched as Ripley and the boss alien took the kid to the medical bay. He yelled for Vriess to get his mechanical ass here now and bring whatever other nitro that was available. One look at Ripley confirmed his suspicions that she was trying to use that mind thing that all aliens had as she walked.

It had been that weird shit that had alerted her that something was about to go down. Call had stayed to help him clean up but had stared daggers when a group of their hosts picked up the still alive alien that had been beaten within and inch of its life, not once, but twice.

"So. What the fuck happened?"

"Four broken ribs, shattered shoulder, mass internal bleeding, knife wounds across the sternum, punctured or collapsed lung and god knows what else."

Hudson pursed his lips and let out the breath he had been holding. "Yo, Call what the fuck happened, man. Vasquez ain't saying shit, she took off after Rip and them and them guys ain't saying shit either."

Call had also noticed that Vasquez had followed them. She had been very agitated and had been for days but she had appeared almost inconsolable when Ripley lifted Chase into her arms and there was a low moan uttered from the child. Ripley said something happened a few nights ago – she had found it humorous but she hadn't shared just smirked.

She should be in the medical bay but she had stayed to clear up the pool of blood that was slowly eating through the floor. This time she doubted that it could be hushed up. They would see that Chase was very different from a human, even a genetically advanced one.

"I don't know Hudson. I think.. I think Chasey was protecting Vasquez. Why else would she start a fight with these guys after being told that she was not allowed? Ripley will find out what happened when Chase recovers."

Vriess coughed and then muttered something that Call missed, even with her android hearing.

"What was that Vee? I didn't catch it."

Vriess looked up angrily. His eyebrows slanted dangerously across his eyes and Call saw a flicker of the man he was before he lost the use of his legs. "I said, that's if Cheri pulls through. That knifing would of killed anyone – right in between the second and third rib and how the hell are we going to explain it if she does pull through? Any normal person would die from those injuries Call."

The Cajun rolled his fingers round his wheelchairs controls and took off down the corridor.

"I'm going to work on our only mode of escape. We might need to leave quickly after this shindig."

The combined use of human and alien technology made his med lab look like something out of a nightmare. There was a soft and painfully slow beeping that the females had their eyes pinned on at all times that was somehow attached to the barely living young ooman female. Strange wires were crossed here and there and the smells of the combined technologies made his head hurt.

What the pauk was antiseptic? Anti-biotics? He knew what a sedative was and despite the second in commands protests he had pumped the body he was working on full of them. Aa'Ro would live – he was badly beaten, skin and muscle had been almost burn from his body but a few cycles in the healing chamber he would be as good as new but this half grown suckling? He did not know and despite his aversion to praying to the goddess Paya he admitted to himself that if there was ever a time it was now.

H'tch and Elder Jo'ein were viewing his progress from the viewing port and there was something in the set of the elders mightiest seed that had him uneasy – he looked at the female that was receiving treatment like she was his.

That did not set well with him.

Not that he was adverse to inter species relationships but he had numerous questions. Right now, with the wounds it had by law the female should be dead. But the body had started to heal and if Aa'Ro had not shunted a blade into it and almost damned near torn the pauk out of it, Zion had no doubt that the strange DNA that the young suckling and its alpha parent possessed would of kicked in and it would of rapidly healed over and Aa'Ro would have been ripped to pieces.

But in its current state there was nothing to be done it seemed except wait.

He listened as the female healer, Call rattled off a list of injuries to the Alpha female and wondered if said female was as calm as she looked. Her upper clothing was bathed in the fluorescent green that made up his kinds blood, blood belonging to Aa'Ro.

The faint hiss of the door being opened alerted him that one of the viewers had joined him. H'tch was busy clenching and then unclenching his hands, visibly shaking to keep from snarling at the motionless figure in the cyrotube being healed.

"He has been gutted twice and it seems that all three of the remaining ooman females want his balls. I believe he is suffering enough, son of my elder. Wishing more harm to befall your cousin is dishonourable."

H'tch growled.

Enough?

Ha! Maybe when he, himself had beaten his cousin and supposed best friend into submission and bloody with his spear, stripped some meat from his hide with his shuriken and then maybe removed everything that he held sacred from his body then yes, maybe Aa'Ro had suffered enough.

His female.

_His female!_

His female was damaged to the point of where the prayers to Paya began! Potentially dying because his bastard friend could not keep it in his pants for a cycle and causing a rift between the truces that his sire found to be beneficial. He too found it beneficial, yes due to the little female that had captured his attentions. And then there was the order that none enter into combat with the ooman pack members under any circumstances.

His father's word was law. He saw to it that it was and by the goddess he H'tch had also seen to it. His snot nosed suckling brother had managed to keep his distance and not engage a fight why the pauk could not a warrior known for his temperance and wisdom not do the same? Cjit!

"He will be judged healer. I will not tolerate an order from the elders being disobeyed. It is my duty."

Zion snorted. "It's your duty is it boy? Is it your duty because he has roughed up the female you have been busy sniffing after? Phsaw! You young males are all the same, a flirty movement of talons or mandibles followed by a sweet smelling musk and you follow skipping and prancing about."

"You will not mock me healer!"

H'tch snarled in anger at the image that the healer had painted. He did not skip after a female. It was beneath him. He was a prize to any female. He had females coming out of his ears! Not the one that he wanted yet but he had immense prospects and was not a Pauking twitter patted unblooded in his first rutting season.

This female was different.

"I do not mock you, H'tch. I was once young like you and shared in the pain of not having the female I desired come to me. They are different from us, boy. You would do good to remember that."

"Aa'Ro did not seem to have a problem.. Is she going to recover, Elder healer?"

The mighty hunter walked to the glass that separated the healer's room from where he wanted to be right now.

With this female.

His little brave female.

He laid a clawed hand against the glass and wished that the rooms weren't sound proofed. Even her whimpering in pain would sooth him. Lies, hearing her in pain would probably induce him into a rage and half the equipment would suffer. He should have followed his cousin. He could of stopped her from being hurt, could of stopped the entire shenanigan from occurring but no, he had not left the table. He had done nothing.

"That is in the hands of the gods young one. There was talk of some specialist healer in another system but I got the impression that the alpha female was reluctant."

"Aa'Ro?"

"He was be on his feet in the next few days. He will have pain in his gut for a long time and the two holes will scar."

"I will keep guard tonight healer. You may retire to your rooms."

Zion sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Ripley forced the emotion down – she was not unfeeling but since her resurrection as a half human alien it had become almost too easy to portray nothing. Her face was an unmoving ode to that which is known as the 'Poker Face'.

The information from the link was sketchy at best – there had been the desire to protect a hive mate and rage. Call had been on at her for weeks that the hormones in her offspring's blood were in a constant state of flux and that she did not know what that meant. Sure, there had been other experiments with alien human DNA but until her, Ripley eight and followed by her Chase, the process was never perfected again to such magnitude.

There had been numerous tubes full of botched experiments, faces twisted with fangs and elongated bodies and in all stages of growth where she had found the test tube that held her child.

She had felt the emotions before of course, bearing a child. Feeling the hesitant kicks against her womb, hearing the soft but rapid heartbeat on a monitor and then the scalding pain of bringing a child into the world but it had still been magical. She had her Amy and her Newt back. Smiling faintly, Ripley stepped forward and rested a clawed hand against her young's head, sending a wave of soothing feeling through the link, knowing that there was a remote chance that Chase would not hear it.

_I wouldn't give you up. Nothing would make me_.

Why had there been this slip? Reiterating, Ripley knew that Chase had been angry before, even more so when a drone had made off with one of the new age hippies that had taken up with them. The desire to render and destroy the drone was there but even when she did catch up with them there had not been an inkling of rage – satisfaction yes, in ripping the skull from its body. No protective rage had never been present before and if she was honest it made her feel uneasy as if she was missing a crucial titbit of information that would piece together why in all that was holy her child would disobey a direct order – drones could not disobey the queen and in their relationship she, Ripley was the hive mother and Chase was a warrior drone.

Glancing at Call she shifted her stance a little – once upon a time she would of needed coffee or some other form of stimulant to stay awake and on her feet, not so now. Looking at Call again she sighed as the android went over the findings again. Raising an eyebrow while Call went through each and every reading Ripley stared silently at Vasquez who was concentrating on the information that Call was rolling off.

Call was sure that this influx of hormones was at the root of it but all roots needed a catalyst.

".. I mean these readings are off of course by human standards but even you have never lost it and flicked your internal switch. There is something we are missing! When you were re grown you never had any issues? Ripley…? Ripley?"

The Hive Mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath before answering.

"They were attempting to teach me things. I almost throttled Wren and I was succeeding even with my hands encased and then there was the room dedicated to bringing me back. I cannot say that since then I have felt especially emotional. Call.. I was grown to maturity with my extra curriculars, as we will call them. Chase was an embryo, a blank page. Could this imbalance be because I was grown to maturity and she was not?"

The android blew at the strands of hair that fell in her face.

"I don't know Ripley. The files from the Auriga and the Indianapolis base are AWOL from the system. Even if we wanted to cross reference data we couldn't…" Call paused, cocking her head before speaking.

"Gediman's brother was also working on the cloning process. Last time we hacked the mainframe he wasn't anywhere near successful but the data indicated that he had a hand in a lot of early work on you after the first failures. Last I checked he had a lab in the abraxus system."

"Shit! You know that place will be crawling with military assholes. If we even let them get a whiff of you or the kid and we'll never see you again. She deserves better than that Ripley."

Call glanced at the before silent Latino and watched with curiosity as Vasquez edged closer to the mat holding Chases lifeless body and absently flicked away stray hairs from her face. Ripley suddenly had a small grin on her face as she stepped forward and patted Vasquez back quietly.

"Vasquez, she thinks of you as a hive mate. That is why she attacked the Yautja. For all her faults and yours I am proud of her for protecting that she calls 'sister'. Go and rest, you aren't helping anyone by keeping a silent vigil. You are useless to us all dead on your feet."

Vasquez and Call both picked up the subtle emphasis that Ripley made when she stressed the word 'yours'. My fault?

Yes.. it is my fault. If I hadn't got so assholed I would not of been laid by that mother fucker, I wouldn't of been so pissed off about it, I wouldn't of run off from the mess and gotten followed by him obviously on the prowl for round two and Chase wouldn't of tried to kick his ass for his trouble. Slamming her palm against the wall Vasquez felt something trickle down her face. Reaching up she was surprised to see drops of water against her skin.

Tears?

She had not cried since Drake.. Eyes widening in alarm, the Latino woman's mind went into overdrive. She couldn't of saved Drake her dearest Amigo but she could at least take a crack at saving Chase. The abraxus system to see a freak called Gediman.

She stared at her pillow and fell onto it drifting off into a sleep filled with the screams from her little friend.

It had been 18 hours.

Eighteen rotten hours since she left the medical lab and she was still nowhere near a plan. Vasquez was in need of help - Help and a lot of planning. Ripley never would sign off on a little trip a couple of million light years, right and then left to see the good doctor. Call might be persuaded to help but she doubted very much if she could coerce Vriess into being pilot. She could probably count on him for much but he would never go behind the bosses back as he called her.

Hicks and Hudson would be useless and she point blank refused to speak to the crud hole that was Johner. This was his entire fault and eventually he would pay for it but right now she had a sick amigo to look out for. Being told that the kid thought of her as family made her chest ache briefly. She knew her face had taken on pain right then and had been unable to suppress it. Call had stared at her and had nodded. Call would be the one that she needed to pull this off. Chase HAD to get to that crazy ass doctor and be fixed.

It did not matter that there were potentially alien fuckers there or the USM. She would have one chance and that would be if there was some chaotic event happening where Ripley would be needed and off guard duty leaving Chase free for extraction and then getting both of their asses to a pod or something and then taking off for the base. Punching in a set of codes, she raised her head to see Hicks followed by a yawning Hudson and a now glaring Johner approach. This was going to cause a headache and the rubbing of temples began.

"Yo, Vaz."

Vasquez didn't bother looking up from the terminal. She did however hear the big lug shift on his feet before clearing his throat.

"Hey did you hear me, woman?"

Gritting her teeth against turning round and ripping his balls off Vasquez ignored him and instead tapped out commands intermittently and studied the responses before swinging round in the chair and staring. The ties that were thought to of been tight were looser now; the rope was barely holding anything together.

Johner just glared back at her. Asshole.

"You gonna tell me what the fucks up?"

The slither of thread snapped like the ginger candy she adored.

What the fuck was up? Setting her jaw again and tossing her head, suddenly all haughtiness again Vasquez smirked.

"The fact that you're sitting here pendejo and polluting my air is what's up. Fuck off, puta."

She heard Hudson snort in amusement while Johner simply stood there and fish mouthed for a few seconds before balling his fists. Raising an eyebrow at him, she tapped her fingers against her vintage jungle issue knife. Hicks would have her back and she saw him immediately stub out his cigarette and move to get into the way but all Vasquez did was smile.

"Yo kiddies, c'mon this is like seriously buggin' us all out, okay? C'mon man, you and Johner are tight right? Bug busters forever, yo?"

Hudson was staring at Vasquez with his normal shit eating grin and under normal circumstances she would smirk and slap hands, join in the bug buster shit but she had a debt to repay. Hopping up from her seat and closing the clips on the terminal case she sighed and looked at her comrades in arms.

"Hudson, Hicks. You my boys and always will be. Apone's badasses but there are some things you just need to stay out of and this is one of those things, ok 'migas?"

Turning on her heel and starting to stalk out of the eating bay she paused at the door and sealed the deal.

"As I said puta, fuck off."

Taking a deep breath Vasquez slowly exhaled. It didn't hurt at all. He was a poor reminder of Drake after all. There were more important things. _Hold on kiddo, I'm thinking up a plan_.

Zion followed the ooman female that seemed intent on downloading as much crude data as it could. The male known as Johner and the female were known to be mates as their scents had been found together mingled numerous times but they never seemed to put off that exclusive air, hence why that pustule prancing pauker of a male Aa'Ro had made a play for and won a night of mating rights.

He had studied ooman behaviour in his youth after one of his most revered uncles had been slain on a hunt on the ooman home world. It had unfortunately led to his demise but the story went that the leading elder at the time had been impressed with the way that the warrior and the ooman had worked to destroy a hard meat queen no less and had thus chosen to honor said female with his own spear.

Oomans were known to be soft, easy prey 90% of the time but if you were unfortunate enough to find one of the 10% that had a brain then you had to work fast and hard, utilizing all your resources and ensure that the crafty ooman did not have a chance to do the same.

Females it appeared were the feistier of the breed, all that had been encountered did the name female proud and displayed a fierceness, cunning and the ability to adapt that brought a pool of blood to the loins to a warrior.

These particular females were all of what he had heard and more. Oomans that hunted hard meat prey, oomans that would willingly get into a fight with a superior breed without thought of losing, oomans that seemed to be damned near indestructible and oomans that had corrosive blood.

Like hard meat.

And so he watched the females like a hawk.

It was apparent that she was working on something and wished the others not to know and from his vantage point he could see that she was looking at some very primitive star charts. That caught his attention. Why would the female be looking at star charts or planning something with the rest of its pack? Zion's curiosity was now most definitely piqued especially when the female grunted in triumph and then started a whole new calculation on the very basic computer terminal. Intelligence it seemed and ingenuity were also utilized by oomans.

Zion crept closer to the wall when the second Alpha female came striding into the relaxation area. He watched as the two females said nothing to each other and thought that this was odd, what he knew of this group was that they were very social and getting them to shut up was something that was rarely accomplished. Instead of voice communication the one known to him as Call strode forward and handed over what looked like to be a communication tablet.

"She will never agree. If you're going to do it then you need to make a move soon, use this and it will interface with the Betty's A.I system. I can give you breathing space but not much."

Zion narrowed his eyes_. Interfaces? Making a move soon?_

"She wont be happy about this Call. Why risk helping me, thought you and Rip were tight as."

The ooman called Call turned and walked away and then paused at the oval exit.

"She's a child to me as well. At first I saw her as a danger but she grew on me. Looks like she did a hatchet job on you. Bad ass mother fucker my ass, Vasquez."

"If this space age hippy doc can't do fuck all then I plug him and us. I wouldn't let the USM anywhere near us. Fry everything. No trace. I still am a bad ass."

Interesting..

He was right to investigate the strange behaving ooman. Was the smaller one going to challenge the alpha for command?

Zion's brow wrinkled with thought when it hit him. Star charts, on board computers. There was either a mutiny coming or he hoped, this sly female was going to find a healer for the younger pack mate. He was a male as well as a scientist and no one wanted see young die. Especially young of such potential – a hybrid of some kind. Such an ooman would be worth investigating and would call for some testing. Enter the revered elder healer, i.e. Him. Zion.

Flicking on his translator he came out of hiding, noting with pleasure that the ooman female trouble maker jumped in surprise at first and then scowled. Splaying his mandibles in a soothing manner knowing first hand that mutiny was hard job, especially to a primate like an ooman.

"Take young. Heal? I. Help. "

He gave a yautja smile when the females shock wore off and they were in an accord.


	11. With Ruby Slippers

To the lovely reviewer who asked me if Vas and Aa'Ro end up together; there's gonna be some SICK plot happening – will have to wait and see.

It began with an explosion. Nothing to severe but it cleared an entire deck within moments and caused enough chaos to ensure that the path from the med lab to one of the most rarely used elevator platforms was completely cleared. The corridors were thickly filled with smoke and as Zion evacuated with the others of the clan he wondered if him and the vile annoying ooman female had used a little bit too much of the explosives she called nitro glycerine.

Adopting his facial attributes into an annoyed scowl he began to loudly complain, posture and cause as much distraction as he could; much like the son of his first mate was doing next to him. Car'Mek was of course in on it. His curiosity about the little ooman female was much like his own.

Boundless.

Even through her vitals continued to drop with frightening regularity her body refused to give up and most disturbingly of all her brainwaves through faint were evolving. It was almost as if the body was swiftly changing itself, adapting in an enviable way after being half destroyed. What he wouldn't give for genes like that. With the correct mutation it would lead to new vaccines and ways to improve his status as chief healer for his clan.

He had watched with a sombre eye as the female Vasquez had hefted the half dead body of her comrade clutching the pathetic ooman version of a plasma burner to her side and taking off in a stumbley run before she set off the detonations. It would have been nice, he thought on a dour note, to of been given at least a meagre show of gratitude for his pains. His lab was probably half destroyed in the fracas and it would be HELL when it became apparent that the explosion was not exactly an accident.

Zion smiled, his crab like appendages stretching with mirth when the klaxon alarms for danger suddenly changed to a more high-pitched version.

Could have laughed out loud as he began to hear snippets that someone was in the ooman docking bay and was attempting a coup.

He smothered a smile when the ooman pack bundled past the lock in doors onto the ships middle ring, two members very absent.

The technician had done a very good job it seemed hacking into the ships computers, thus locking all doors from the habitat levels and ensuring a successful escape.

Zion winced slightly as the Clan Elder arrived and started barking at a very pissed off tune. He was by no means a coward but some fights he would not enter; especially not this one. The feisty ooman female was on her own, and if they managed to get the doors opened then they managed to get the doors open – he was a physician first he would say, honor bound to his patients and the ooman had a very good argument that hinted that the young ones life could be saved.

He rattled a light trill in the back of his throat. Things were in the hands of Paya.

Vasquez was tired. She had not slept since she had begun planning. She had to do this, she had to save the kid and if meant that pissing the fuck out of some alien assholes and her commanding officer then so be it. She owed the brat and she always paid her dues.

Grunting with effort she ducked her head and scoped for targets before pulling out a remote. Looking down at the mess of limbs at her feet she knelt down and softly ruffled the normally pristine blonde hair that was now dirty with sweat, blood and god knows what else.

"I'll save you baby. I promise little girl."

Breathing deep through her nostrils in and attempt at enhancing her inner calm squeezed the military issue detonator and in a quick movement depressed the trigger in three rapid movements.

Instantly the ship rocked violently. She supposed it was due to the proximity of the explosions as she steadied herself. The high-pitched klaxons kicked in immediately and in the distance she could hear soft roars from the ships inhabitants and soon enough smoke, thick cloying smoke started to furl around her shoulders and legs. Fixing a breathing mask to her face Vasquez knelt and as gently as she could slid an arm underneath the kids' shoulders, her fingers gripping under her arm pit and hefted.

In the space of 48 hours the kid all of a sudden weighed next to nothing. It was as if she was a baby again and not a half pint teenager. Wheeling herself and her precious cargo around the deserted fume filled tunnel she followed the emergency lights that directed her to her exit point – Call had promised that she would light the way but even through she was an aut-ton; the most shit hot piece of android machinery going she couldn't however promise how long her moments of grace would be.

It didn't matter, she had said. She'd get the kid to the ship somehow and all Call needed to do was the make the gotdamned doors open and the ship powered ready to make a speedy exit.

It had been a hard slog the last day readying things without her crew were in on the know. Fixing the Betty up for a hard warp flight; supplies and weapons and above all else the plan. The crafty son of a bitch alien healer was a complete asshole. He went along with everything they had said until the distraction and then laughed in their faces and proceeding to tell them that something so minor would not keep the hunters or the alpha female of their group from getting to the bottom of whatever coup they were intent on attempting.

He said that if any such plan was to work the clan ship needed to be incapacitated but not overly damaged, so much so that immediate pursuit would not be possible. Vasquez remembered how his eyes had darkened when Call has asked whom they should watch out for. He had immediately appeared insulted and refused to speak to them for half a day before standing appearingly affronted before them and gave a list in his opinion of those would be up for an immediate pursuit and that needed to be distracted or contained.

It was a surprise for both her and Call to hear that the big guy that had half killed Chase before was interested in the kid. As in interested – as a male would be with a female. Call hadn't said a word but had smiled and had said something about being physically incompatible due to species. The crab man came back with stories of how humans and the Yautja had 'mated' in the past with no problems and has been very cocky in his come back. Call had said nothing but Vasquez could tell she had wanted to.

After all these things hunted the bugs and Chase was for all intensive purposes half bug.

And besides the kid was too young for that shit right? It was however a question for later and not now as she was traipsing along with an almost terminal bug brat under her arm with a ticket to see Dr. Gediman the second.

Flickering lights greeted dimly in the gloom and Vasquez started to breath easier. The loading platform to the docking bay was just there. The Betty was a few hundred feat underneath them all powered up and reading to buck the fuck out of here. Punching the keypad savagely she almost jumped when Call's voice rang out.

"You don't have long. You are two minutes behind schedule and they already know that that something is up and that you're missing. I don't have long before I have to disengage and try to act as if I have fuck all to do with this. Not like that for chrissakes! Left button followed by the one that looks like a fucked up triangle.!"

"Man they all look like fucking triangles, how about you quit flapping your virtual lips and operate the fucking thing!"

Aiming a kick to the doors Vasquez swore in her mother tongue violently and then broke it off as the cage opened wide and inviting. Turning a dial on the emergency mask she was wearing, thinning the mix to stay frosty she then began to drag the prone body of her teammate in behind her.

"Shit.. They found the bombs and know that they are ours – and they are on the habitat ring about 30 meters from you right now trying to get through the doors…" A loud boom interrupted calls commentary.

"You have a minute tops, the ship is already powered and the bay doors are set to open in exactly 2 minutes. Set the beacon when you land in the Abraxus system and for fucksakes Vasquez.. Take care of you and yours. Call out."

The elevator doors opened to the bay just as the android ended her transmission. They were almost through the fucking doors were they? SHIT! Navigating around a load of alien supply boxes the Latino almost cried at the sight of the Betty and would of kissed the charred metal if it wasn't for the fact that she had exactly.. Well fuck she didn't know.. FUCK.. Breaking out into a light jog, she heaved herself and Chase up the cargo hold steps and slammed it shut behind them. There was no time right now to secure Chase into stasis or a chair. Dropping her body in a crumpled heap Vasquez hauled ass to the cockpit.

Flicking the necessary switches she almost missed a viewing port coming to life in front of them.

Eyes widening Vasquez could only sit in silence as the faces of her team and a few dozen of the hunters stared at her. There was no sound but she could see that Ripley was angrily snarling though the port. Flicking a switch she opened communications and looked at her watch. 20 seconds.

Furious ranting greeted her as the alien technology immediately interfaced.

Vasquez held up a hand.

"I don't have the fucking time to explain. Chase needs this asshole Ripley and ya fucking know it. I'm doing what you assholes won't."

"You will stop what you are doing Private. I wont repeat myself. You have no idea what these doctors will do if they get a hold of Chase. I know exactly what will happen…"

Vasquez growled down her headset as another klaxon sounded, its piercing wail an ode to victory in her mind.

"Shit hits I promise I'll do us both. Just like Hicks promised you on LV426. I owe her this, Christ Rip; we all owe her this for fucksakes! She's not another alien to me anymore godamnit…"

Vasquez stopped shouting and breathed out and ran her fingertips over the directional control pads. "We'll be back. Later bitches."

Private Vasquez ended the transmission and looked at the port as the outer doors began to open in time to see Call join the group. She could see Hudson going bat shit, arms all over the place. There was Hicks staring her down, something akin to a mix of respect and disappointment adorning his handsome bubba boy face. Johner was just simply staring at her. She resisted sneering at him in return and the others were hidden by the hunters as a few stepped forward and attacked the computers with fervour at the command from the grey haired elder at their backs.

Too late assholes.

The Betty's engines roared to life as the air was visibly sucked out of the docking bay, a haunting metallic clunking was heard as metal moved against metal the gap between the landing bay doors and space getting wider by the millisecond. Swirling a finger the Betty instantly responded and lifted with a lurch from its stationary position and headed towards the beckoning doors. Not once paying attention to the silent screams from one pissed off parent.


End file.
